


Of Crows and Feral Cats

by DoodlesOfTheMind



Series: Of Crows and Feral Cats [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoodlesOfTheMind/pseuds/DoodlesOfTheMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A doodle on the events leading up to the Uchiha Massacre. Prequel to "Dear Agony." Early work, not truly complete. May re-write and polish in the near future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

***

Asuka was one of the few shinobi who could hope to rival the genius Uchiha heir. Though she had Uchiha blood in her, likely the secret child of a lower branch member, the clanless bastard girl had been left to the streets as a child. She’d put herself through the Academy and was a full Jounin by her eleventh birthday. A few months later, she had been invited to serve in ANBU, and in the four years since then, she had distinguished herself running mostly solo missions. She had gained a reputation for being competent and ruthlessly efficient, but also for being impossible to control. Her superiors called her “Konoha’s feral cat,” thinking it an insult, but she had embraced it and even requested her mask specifically to match the nickname. Naturally, Itachi had chosen her for his squad when he had been made Captain a few short months ago.

“Itachi-kun, you’re bleeding,” she said quietly as they knelt in the darkened forest.

He shook his head, irritated by the implied familiarity of the honorific. “Not mine.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, so cut the shit.”

“Is that how you speak to your Captain?” he asked mildly. ANBU was so understaffed these days that they were running missions in half-squads. With only the two of them, the young Captain didn’t have to worry so much about maintaining his position of authority; in fact, it was almost refreshing to have someone challenge him on occasion. That, and she _was_ a bastard, after all. Expecting her to behave like a proper shinobi was a losing battle.

“Aye, when he’s being a _baka_ ,” she muttered and laid a hand on his arm. “Let me see it.”

He didn’t push her away, but the sudden tension in his shoulders made it clear that she was out of line. Anyone else would have instantly retreated to a safer distance, but Asuka ignored him and rolled up his left sleeve to examine the deep cut on his bicep.

“You won’t bleed out before we get back, so I’ll leave it be. The precious Uchiha heir wouldn’t want a scar from my clumsy field stitching.” She smirked behind her mask. “When did you get hit, anyway? I haven’t seen you injured in _ages_.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. “If you’ve rested enough, let’s go. Hokage-sama will want to know of our success immediately.”

She chuckled. “Aye.”

They set a good pace back to Konoha and passed through the East gate just as the sunrise began to lend a pale pink tint to the sky. They slipped through the hidden passages in the gates and through the underground paths back to ANBU headquarters. The ANBU rarely moved openly through the streets of the village to avoid frightening the civilians. Once inside, they removed their masks and murmured their passphrases to the two shinobi on guard duty. Asuka, the cat, and Itachi, the crow, were well known within ANBU, and no shinobi worth the rank could fail to recognize their chakra signatures, but neither objected to the formality.

They quickly changed out of their blacks, now filthy with sweat and blood, and showered off. They met outside the locker rooms, each dressed in the spare uniform that every ANBU shinobi learned to keep on hand; running home in bloody clothes tended to upset the villagers. Itachi could always use _Shunshin_ to avoid them, but it took a lot of chakra, and after a hard mission like this had been, he did not have the strength to waste on something like that.

Asuka had tied her mask to her hip with a simple, crimson thread, revealing sharp features and emerald eyes that were only enhanced by her now unbound black hair. She glanced at the slight bulge in his shirt where he had bandaged the deep cut, making it clear that she was going to give him an earful if he didn’t get it taken care of, but she didn’t speak. Glancing around at some of the other shinobi in the office tonight, he appreciated her discretion. This was not a place to reveal weakness.

ANBU was about forty percent paperwork, if you had the misfortune to accept a position as a squad Captain. Asuka’s report was concise and accurate, but Itachi was required to not only file his own report, but also to address the accuracy and any concerns with the reports of his subordinates. Both shinobi omitted any mention of injury.

“Breakfast, Itachi-kun?” she asked as they made their way out through the East-gate passage.

“Another time, perhaps,” he said, noting that she hadn’t even slowed her stride to wait for a response.

“Get that arm looked at before I kick your ass,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

His eyes widened slightly before he schooled his expression. _Pick your battles, Itachi._ It wouldn’t do any good to reprimand her for the disrespect because in her mind, the fact that she was willing to come within twenty feet of him and occasionally follow his orders was good enough. Feral cat, indeed. Asuka and the rest of his squad frequently asked him along when they needed to eat something after returning from a mission, or when they wanted to hit a certain pub up North that treated all shinobi above Chunin rank as if they were of legal age, and he always declined; he had learned that the best Captains did not intrude on their subordinates’ freedom. Especially when said Captain was two full years younger than the youngest of his squadmates. His youth and rank had always set him apart.

His feet followed the path back to the Uchiha estate with little intervention from his mind. As he passed under the ornately carved wooden archway that marked the clan’s ancestral home, he sighed, sensing a familiar chakra.

“ _Nii-san!_ ” a high-pitched voice called. Of course Sasuke would be up by now, on his way to the Academy, bright eyed and full of energy at a time when no one should be.

He nodded to his little brother.

“ _Nii-san_ , you won’t believe what happened yesterday!” Sasuke said, running to him. “We were working on throwing _shuriken_ , but you already taught me that, so I already knew how! Guess what Iruka-sensei let me do?”

Clearly the boy actually wanted him to guess, but he could see how difficult it was for the child not to blurt it out. “I don’t have time to guess, Sasuke.”

The boy looked slightly put out, but when Itachi didn’t walk away from him, his grin returned. “He let me teach some of the other kids, like Sakura-chan, because she isn’t from a ninja clan and didn’t know how to do it!”

Itachi could help but crack a smile at his brother’s joy at having helped his classmate. First-generation shinobi often had a rough time of it in the Academy and needed all the help they could get, compared to children from the great clans who were trained in the ninja arts from birth. Whether he was capable of the same feats of ninjutsu as his elder brother or not, Sasuke was a good man. _Surely a better one than I have become._ “You taught her properly, I’m sure?”

Sasuke nodded vigorously. “Just like you showed me. You hold your wrist like this,” he demonstrated, “and you have to throw with your entire arm, or you won’t have enough power when it hits. She leans to the left, like I used to, so I helped her with that, too!”

“Very good, Sasuke. I’m sure she appreciated your help.”

The boy beamed. “We’re still working on it, but because I’m so good, I’m going to work on throwing a bunch of them at once, like you can. Will you help me train later?”

“Perhaps, if I’m not busy. Run along now, or you’ll be late,” Itachi said firmly, knowing that his little brother could talk for hours if he allowed it.

Sasuke nodded and took off, literally running toward the Academy.

Itachi continued down the path to the home he still shared with his parents and brother. Though his status as an ANBU Captain entitled him to the rights of any adult, it was customary for the head family of the Uchiha to share a single, multi-generational household, and he had never forced the issue. He was rarely there anyway.

Uchiha Fugaku was dressed in his official police uniform and on his way out as Itachi stepped onto the traditional wooden porch that encircled their home. “Ah, I wondered if you would be home today.”

“ _Otou-san_ ,” Itachi said, bowing respectfully. “I have just returned.”

His father looked at him carefully, but either missed or ignored the bandage on his arm. “Your mission was a success, I trust?”

“Yes, it went more smoothly than I anticipated. In truth, I expected to be away another two days, at the least,” he replied. _Damn Asuka’s efficiency._

“I’d like to speak to you tonight, assuming Hokage-sama hasn’t sent you out again by then,” Fugaku said.

Itachi nodded, secretly resigned. “I don’t expect another run quite so soon. My team members have all had multiple back-to-back missions for the last few months, often solo or in half-squads. A few days of rest would be advisable to prevent chakra exhaustion.”

Fugaku glanced at his watch. “Your mother is out today, so enjoy what rest you can get. We will speak later.”

Itachi found rice and vegetables in a bowl with his name scrawled on a piece of tape across the lid, but he had no appetite. He had kept himself out of the village as much as he could lately, but even Asuka was starting to show her endurance flagging. Renji and Kenshin would never admit it, but they were bone-tired as well. He should never have pushed them so hard for his own ends; that was not how a squad Captain was supposed to behave. As he unwound the bandage on his left arm, he almost envied the bastard girl who answered to no one but herself. She had no family name to uphold, no clan to consider, no puppet strings to fight against, no father drowning in the dark political undercurrents of the village. Perhaps that was why he was so tolerant of her.

He grimaced at the sight of the jagged line that the enemy’s _kunai_ had left in its wake. Healing ninjutsu was not a common specialty, but Itachi had made it a point to study it when he could. He knew enough to focus his chakra on the damaged flesh and muscle and slowly knit it back together until only a thin, white line remained. The effort took most of his remaining chakra, and he dragged himself to his small, spartan bedroom to rest.


	2. Chapter 2

His body registered that someone was near before he fully regained consciousness, a reflex from his nearly three years in ANBU. His breathing automatically quieted and his muscles flexed and loosened, ready for quick movement in any direction. He reached out and relaxed instantly when he sensed the presence at the front door. He sent a pulse of chakra toward the visitor, the ninja equivalent of saying “I heard you, hang on a minute,” as he changed out of his ANBU uniform and into ordinary black clothes. He quickly re-did the tie that restrained his long hair as well, and headed for the door. He had only taken two steps into the hallway before his visitor got tired of waiting and came in through the window.

“Shisui-nii-san, have you no patience?” he grumbled.

“None at all, little cousin,” the young man replied genially, adjusting his ANBU vest. “I heard you got back today.”

Itachi glanced at the clock. He’d slept only a few hours, but it was enough. “Did you need something?”

“No, no. Just wanted to make sure you made it back in one piece, is all. I’ve heard some nasty rumors about where you can’t tell me you were.”

“Your rumors probably have some grain of truth to them, but not more than that. Even _you_ would have survived this one,” he teased, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Shisui put a hand on his chest as if he’d been struck there, but the grin never left his face. “When did ANBU turn you into such an asshole?”

“I was always this way, or didn’t you notice?” he said, going to the fridge for the bowl of rice he had found earlier. “Hungry?”

“Nah, I’m in a bit of a hurry, actually. Mission briefing in ten minutes. I’m probably going to be sent out to the back-end of nowhere for a month to do absolutely nothing useful. You guys in the Intelligence Division get to have all the fun while we lowly assassins handle the dirty work. Then again, the big guy’s being pretty cagey about this one, so it might be good. Glad I got to see you, though,” Shisui said, unlocking the door to head out.

“Babysitting an outpost for a month isn’t so bad. Vacations are a rarity anymore,” Itachi said, noting the poorly hidden disgust in his cousin’s voice when he’d said the word “assassins.” Shisui had been pushed into ANBU not long after his promotion to Chunin, and between his _Shunshin_ speed and his Sharingan-enhanced genjutsu, he’d been a perfect fit for the many assassination missions that ANBU dealt with. And though he would never say it, Itachi knew that he hated it with every fiber of his being.

“You have a very skewed idea of what constitutes a vacation, ‘Tachi,” Shisui said, chuckling as he left.

 _I suppose I do_ , he thought as he sat down to eat. For him, the back-to-back missions he had taken on of late had been a relief. Every moment he spent caught up in the twisted politics of Konoha was agony. Growing up during the Third Shinobi War, he had been fully convinced that combat was the deepest circle of hell, but now, he found himself wondering if peace wasn’t worse... He shook himself, forcing such thoughts aside. After all, the current state of Konoha could hardly be called peaceful, with the clashes between the primarily-Uchiha police force, civilians, and the ANBU growing steadily more frequent, on top of everything else.

Suddenly the familiar walls of his childhood home were no longer comforting. In a blink, he was out the door and had _Shunshin’ed_ his way to Training Ground Zero, which was reserved exclusively for ANBU agents. It was not a single training ground, as the name might imply, but rather a five-acre section of forest with various areas marked off for different shinobi or their teams to use. He recalled his confusion when, after being selected for ANBU and assigned to Hatake Kakashi’s team, he had simply been told to meet at Ground Zero for training. He hadn’t thought to ask which section, and if it weren’t for his skill in following a person’s chakra signature, he may not have found his new team members at all. He’d later learned that this was a common form of hazing for new ANBU shinobi, and that a fair amount of money had changed hands when he’d showed up on time, giving no indication of having had difficulty finding them.

He stopped in an unused section deep in the middle of the forest and warmed up quickly with some advanced _kata_. The movements felt so natural by now that it was as if his body completed them on muscle memory alone. That was dangerous. He forced himself to focus on each move, slowing down and moving with a careful precision as if he had never done it before. This was challenging, as he had learned the _kata_ with his Sharingan from the beginning. He had not had the same need to build up from the basics that other shinobi might have had in their youth. He had grasped it instantly as a boy, but now, as he concentrated on each movement, he noticed minor imperfections in his chakra control. As he stepped out onto the surface of the small stream that bisected his section of Ground Zero, he realized that he was expending more chakra than needed to maintain his balance. It wasn’t much, but even that subtle inefficiency would cause him to wear down over time.

He continued through the _kata_ , correcting the flow of chakra to his feet so that he used only the bare minimum to keep himself above the water. _It’s not as though using more chakra makes the water more solid_ , he reminded himself, but even so, he was grateful when the end of the sequence took him back onto dry land. This was the part of being a shinobi that he truly enjoyed. It wasn’t battle, killing, or danger; those were only painful necessities thrust upon him by the village he had sworn to serve and defend, and they brought no thrill in their wake. It was training his body and mind to respond to his will, feeling himself improve and knowing that there was no limit to how much he could learn, given time and effort. It short, he felt...alive.

As he drew his _ninjato_ for the final series of strikes, he became aware of someone watching him from the trees. The chakra he sensed was not unfamiliar, but he couldn't recall a name to go with the presence. Whoever he was, clearly the observer was one of the ANBU, and knew better than to interrupt him at his training. He finished the final turn and sheathed his blade before he glanced up at the branch where the figure stood, half-obscured by the last autumn leaves.

A tall man wearing a tiger mask leapt down in front of him. “Uchiha-san, Hokage-sama wishes to see you immediately,” he said quietly.

Itachi nodded and turned toward the Hokage’s tower as he gathered his chakra for another _Shunshin_. One did not keep the Sandaime Hokage waiting. Before the messenger had taken another breath, Itachi vanished and reappeared as a blur among the treetops, and within a few seconds, he came to a stop outside the Hokage’s office. If the two Jounin guards were surprised at the way he had seemed to materialize out of the air in front of them, they refused to show it. One of them slipped inside to announce him, and then they let him through as if he turned up like this every day. _True professionals_ , he thought, making a mental note of their chakra signatures.

He stopped a respectful distance in front of the Hokage’s desk and bowed low, holding it until the older man acknowledged him. Predictably, this was less than half a second after he started the movement. Sarutobi Hiruzen was not one for the bowing and scraping expected among some of the ancient clans like the Uchiha or the Hyuga. Despite this, it bothered Itachi that he was expected to show greater respect to the Elders of his clan than to the Hokage himself.

“Itachi,” he said, neglecting to use any honorific, as he often did. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course, Hokage-sama.”

The older man sighed. “I’m sorry to call you in so soon after your return, but I am being pressed for answers. Have you made any progress?”

Itachi took note of the chakra signatures of the hidden ANBU guards. Though technically sworn to secrecy, some were not loyal to the Hokage alone. Today though, he detected only those he knew were trustworthy. He could be vague and circumspect rather than outright misleading. “Little. For now, all remains rumor and shadow, nothing solid. If it moves beyond that, I will know.”

“Has there been any notable appeasement from the actions I have taken so far?” he asked hopefully.

Itachi considered his answer carefully. Yusuke and his new bride had been ecstatic to be allowed to purchase property outside of the Uchiha estate for the first time in decades, but the clan Elders had blocked them from finalizing the deal, saying that the clan needed to stay together. Reducing the surveillance on the estate itself had been a welcome move, but the effect had not been as great as Itachi had hoped. “Essentially none. The recent string of clashes between our police forces and civilians, as well as a small number of the ANBU, has cancelled out any positive gains that might have been made. The general attitude is one of discontent and frustration.”

The Hokage shook his head. “Have you thought of anything?”

“Perhaps,” Itachi said slowly, hesitating. “Some of the main points of contention involve a feeling of...I suppose one could call it marginalization. They feel limited to the running of the police force, as if they are shut out of all other aspects of the governing of Konoha. Forgive me for saying this, Hokage-sama, but this feeling is not entirely unjustified.”

The Hokage shook his head bitterly. “I know. I and my predecessors made many mistakes as we built this village, and I am coming to believe that our treatment of the Uchiha was one of the worst. We felt we had no choice, but if Hashirama could have known you instead of Madara...I wonder if things could have been different. I’d like to think they would have been.”

 _If only_ Otou-san _could hear this._ “A new class will be leaving the Academy within the next week as Genin,” he said, as if the Hokage had not spoken. “Perhaps selecting some of the suitable members of the clan to be their senseis would reflect a sense of inclusion. Or asking some of them to teach at the Academy itself could be another option, though it would not be as attractive as the first.”

“Are you putting yourself forward, hmm, Itachi-sensei?” he asked, jokingly.

“If you wish, Hokage-sama, though that was not my intent or desire. Most of the graduating students are my own age.”

The old man’s grin faded when Itachi did not acknowledge it. “Who would you recommend?”

“Shisui, for certain. And Hiroshi and Ichiro. I would also suggest Miku, though I am not certain she will accept.” They were strong shinobi, and dedicated to the village. If the choice came, he thought that not even blood ties of the clan could make them betray it. He couldn’t say that of many Uchiha.

“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, Itachi. Thank you,” the older man said.

“Of course, Hokage-sama.”

The older man opened his mouth as if to say something else, but he seemed to think better of it. “You may go. I read your report and I’m sure you need to rest. You and Asuka have been running yourselves ragged for six months now.”

He bowed again and left, his heart heavy. When his father had encouraged, no, had _ordered_ him to accept the offer of a position within ANBU, it had been with the thought that he would be well placed to provide information to the clan, but when the whispers of a coup d'etat had become more than the grumbling of intoxicated malcontents among the older generation of the Uchiha, Itachi hadn’t been able to ignore it. Even if the clan succeeded in taking over Konoha, there would be heavy casualties, and internal strife would cause other nations to view them as an easy target. It was almost guaranteed to devolve into a fourth world war. Peace was all he wanted, and to jeopardize that for nothing more than arrogance and pride was unacceptable. Uchiha children were raised from the cradle to put the clan above all else, but even as a boy, Itachi had sensed the error in this. Konoha had many flaws, many things that he longed to remake, but he would _not_ watch it be torn apart again. He couldn’t.

And yet, loyalty ran deep, among the Uchiha, and he knew what would happen if he couldn’t head off the threat of hostility. The Hokage had been frank with him about what was being considered, and it had taken all of his years of shinobi discipline not to run his _ninjato_ through the old man’s heart then and there. The Hokage had seen it in his eyes, but instead of treating him like the danger he had been at that moment, he had done something unexpected.

_“You expect me to stand aside and let my family die?” Itachi was not prone to anger, but the rage he felt now threatened to overwhelm even his legendary self-control. “You really believe that I could let that happen?”_

_“Do you want to kill me, Itachi?” the Hokage asked softly, still seated behind the small mountain of paperwork on his desk._

_“Of course not, Hokage-sama.” It had been a struggle to make the words come out at all, but he knew that they had sounded nothing like his normal voice. He carefully kept his hands away from his weapons and fought hard to suppress the Sharingan that was blazing in his eyes._

_The older man smiled then, a sad, but somehow hopeful smile. “There’s no need to lie. There isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t consider it after the burden I have placed on your young shoulders. I only hope that I have judged the kind of man you are with at least some accuracy.”_

 

And he had. Damn him to the depths of hell, he had.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

It was nearly dark by the time he returned home. Through the open window, he heard dishes clinking and Sasuke’s childish voice telling his parents all about how he had hit the target with his eyes closed during _shuriken_ practice today. He almost wanted to tell the boy not to bother, that nothing he accomplished would matter to their father until he awakened his Sharingan and mastered the _katon_ jutsus that were considered a coming of age among the Uchiha, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Sasuke would have to learn that on his own.

He slid the door open quietly and slipped out of his shoes before making his way to the dining room to suffer through dinner at his brother’s side. His father’s glare was enough to tell Itachi that if he couldn’t be home in time for the start of the meal, then he shouldn’t have come back until it was over, rather than interrupt them as he was, but Sasuke’s enthusiasm at being able to repeat his story to his older brother was enough to make him stay. Itachi served himself from the remaining food in the center of the table and listened as the boy recounted how he had hit his target dead center three times, even though he couldn’t see it.

“That’s good, Sasuke. Perhaps you should try moving targets next, to increase the challenge. You will almost never have to stand still and hit a stationary object again once you’re a shinobi. I’m sure Iruka-sensei could set one up for you to use, or there’s the one by Shisui’s house,” Itachi said, giving his brother another of his rare smiles.

The younger Uchiha beamed. “Wow, I hadn’t thought about that! I bet I can do it, too! I never miss anymore!”

He listened to the boy go on about how he was going to join the police force and what a great ninja he was going to grow up to be until their mother began to clear the table, signalling that they were dismissed. Itachi hovered near the door as Sasuke ran to get his _shuriken_.

“ _Nii-san_ , will you train with me now? Please?” Sasuke asked, sprinting toward him.

Itachi shook his head and stopped the boy’s motion with two fingers against his forehead. “Forgive me, Sasuke. Next time.”

The boy rubbed the spot where Itachi had poked him, grimacing. “Why do you always do that?”

“I have work to do, and you’ll be asleep long before I’m finished,” he said as he followed his father toward the door.

“No I won’t, I’ll stay up all night!” Sasuke said, but one look at his mother took some of the fight out of him.

“Sasuke, you need your sleep,” she said gently.

“But Itachi doesn’t?” he challenged. “Don’t lie to me!”

How a kunoichi as fierce as Uchiha Mikoto had been convinced to surrender her career to become a housewife, Itachi may never know, but he recognized the flash in her eyes when those words left his little brother’s lips. He was glad he wasn’t staying to see how the poor boy would deal with it. This was another battle that the child would have to fight alone.

He walked in silence beside his father as they made their way toward the center of the Uchiha estate. A grand, traditional-style meeting house had been erected there, and small streams and miniature trees had been landscaped around it. If Itachi hadn’t known better, he would have thought it a beautiful, serene place. At the age of ten, the newly acknowledged Chunin shinobi had been welcomed into the meetings of the clan Elders, and it was here that he had first heard the whispers of a coup d'etat against Konoha. It was also here that he had learned of the terrible power that lay dormant within the Sharingan, waiting to be unleashed. The Mangekyo.

As he stepped through the wooden archway, it was all he could do to suppress a shudder. The Uchiha were perceptive by nature, and those who had survived long enough to become Elders of the clan were even more so. To stand before them as a traitor... He took a slow breath and centered himself. He would protect these short-sighted fools, and if someday they called him a traitor for that, then so be it.

They stopped in a dark, circular room. When Fugaku lit one of the torches, Itachi was surprised to see that they were alone. Itachi waited for the other man to speak, betraying none of the apprehension he felt.

“What have you found?” Fugaku asked quietly.

“Nothing concrete. Many among the ANBU still mistrust us, but I don’t think anyone has considered us a true danger for many years now,” Itachi said, choosing his words with greater care than he had needed with the Hokage. “Surveillance is light. It’s only a formality, as is done with all of the greater clans. On the whole, I’d say things are stable, for now.”

Fugaku shook his head. “They show us no respect. While you were away, the council voted to cut funding for my officers by twenty percent! They do all that they can to keep us under their control, to keep us weak. Miku got her arm broken two days ago arresting one of your _comrades,_ ” the disgust in his voice was evident, “in the ANBU because I had to send her out alone. She could have been killed.”

Itachi frowned. The Hokage had made no mention of this earlier. _Perhaps he doesn’t even know. The council ignores his authority on a regular basis, why not now?_ The Uchiha had been Konoha’s police for generations, and his father had become head of the force before Itachi was born. There had been accusations of excessive force against civilians in the wake of the panic brought on by demon fox’s attack, but for the most part, they were seen as impartial enforcers of the law. However, there had always been something of a rivalry between the police and the nearly-untouchable ANBU shinobi, and the tension had been building lately. It was rare for the his father’s forces to obtain a legal warrant to arrest an ANBU agent, and rarer still for them to succeed in carrying it out. With Miku injured on duty, he understood how such deep cuts in funding would be seen as a personal slight, especially now, when the financial state of the village was relatively prosperous.

“I was not aware of this. That is troubling, _Otou-san_ ,” Itachi finally said. _Every attempt at peacemaking is sabotaged somehow._

“More than I can say.” Fugaku sighed. “You are the pipeline between the village and the clan, Itachi. You are the only one who will know if they decide to move more strongly against us, or just continue to bleed us dry as they have since we founded this village. I will need some kind of warning in the future.”

Itachi cursed silently. Uchiha hubris was truly infinite if his father had dared to suggest that the Uchiha were more instrumental to the founding of Konoha than the Senju, with whom they had formed an alliance after nearly a century of warfare. “Of course, _Otou-san_. It is my duty to defend our clan.”

Fugaku put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’ll spare you the Elders’ interrogation. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I can stay, if you wish,” Itachi offered, remembering the first lesson his father had taught him when he had showed his aptitude for the shinobi arts. _Never accept leniency. You are not weak._ He may have no desire for the verbal sparring match that inevitably occurred when he spoke to his father’s advisors, but he would not run from it.

The older man smiled, probably at the same memory. “Go home, Itachi. I’m sure you’ll be sent on another mission before the week is out at the pace you’ve been going.”

He nodded and left. He hadn’t realized how late it was; the streets were deserted and most of the lights were out. Had his mother delayed dinner so long because she was trying to wait for him? Poor Sasuke, the boy must have been starving. He listened carefully for any indication that he was still awake, but apparently their mother had overcome even Sasuke’s strong will, as the house was silent. As he reached for the door, he paused. A feeling he couldn’t quite name welled up in him, making it seem as if his presence was an intrusion. _This is my family, my home. How can I even consider what the Hokage has asked me to do? Spying on my own father, manipulating him and the council... And if I fail..._ He turned and walked away.

He found himself climbing the long stairway that wound its way up the Hokage Monument. He and his father had come here every year on the anniversary of the Yondaime’s death to light a candle for him, since according to his father, Namikaze Minato was the truest friend the Uchiha clan ever had, but aside from that, he spent little time there. He didn’t know why he had chosen this place, but for some reason, it just felt right. When he reached the top, he was surprised to sense a familiar chakra. He tried to step back before she noticed him, but it was too late. She had made ANBU for a reason, after all.

“Itachi?” a voice asked softly from the edge of the Yondaime’s hair.

“Forgive me, Asuka-san. I did not know you would be here.”

The girl shrugged and held out a bottle. “Need a drink?”

He almost refused outright, but suddenly, the thought of the Uchiha heir having a drink with an underage bastard girl on top of the Yondaime’s face didn’t seem as ludicrous and improper as it should have. He wavered for a moment longer, uncertain, and then, throwing his customary caution to the winds, he sat down beside her. “That...might be nice.”

She passed him the bottle of cheap _sake_ and looked back out over the village. “It’s a good night for it.”

He took a small drink, forcing himself not to choke on the unfamiliar burning sensation in his throat. By the third sip, he welcomed the fire that threatened to steal his breath away. It reflected his feelings right now. Asuka didn’t speak, but she took a long pull when he handed the bottle back to her. He glanced at her and saw that her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying, but her face was dry and as he watched, no tears fell. Perhaps there were none left within her, either. They sat like that for a while, asking no questions, demanding no explanations, and Itachi found himself comforted by her presence. He put his arm around her and she leaned into his shoulder.

“Itachi-kun?” she murmured.

“Hn?”

When she didn’t speak, he shifted so he could look over at her without disturbing her. Having her so close to him felt...good. He didn’t know why, and right now, he didn’t care. He just knew he didn’t want it to end. Her emerald eyes met his onyx ones and she shook her head.

“Never mind.”

“Hn.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to finish the bottle.

After what seemed like an eternity, Itachi rose, but his balance betrayed him and he stumbled on the uneven stone. “Damn.”

Asuka sighed and put an arm around his shoulders. “The mighty Uchiha genius is a lightweight. Who would’ve guessed?”

He tried to shake her off, but only halfheartedly. For him to fall to his death from the Hokage mountain because he was too intoxicated to walk properly would certainly bring dishonor to his clan. He chuckled at the thought.

“Oh, no you don’t. Come on, let’s get you off the edge,” she said, gently leading him back to the stairway.

“‘M alright, Asuka. Leggo of me,” he slurred, furious that his body was not responding properly to his mind’s commands.

“Bullshit,” she muttered.

He didn’t have the coordination to resist as she half-carried him along through darkened alleys into one of the seedier neighborhoods of Western Konoha. Asuka propped him up against a crumbling brick wall as she unlocked a door, and then dragged him into a tiny flat. She flicked on a lamp and led him over to a low bed in the corner of the room.

“Sleep, Itachi,” she said softly, and then added, “If you piss or puke on my blankets, I swear I’ll rip your throat out.”

He was unconscious before his head hit the pillow, curled against the warm presence at his back. It might have been a dream, but he thought he felt strong, callused fingers intertwined with his own.

 


	4. Chapter 4

He woke the next morning with his head pounding and a horrible taste in his mouth. He rolled over, and found himself lying on simple _tatami_ mats rather than his bed. _What—_ He opened his eyes and froze for a moment. This was not his bedroom. For one, it had a kitchen in it, and for two, it was an unholy mess. Clothes were strewn across the floor alongside papers, scrolls, weapons, and various debris. There was also a young woman in loose-fitting pants and a sleeveless shirt leaning against the far wall and casually eating noodles.

“Itachi-kun! I wondered if you were going to wake up anytime soon,” she said, setting the bowl on the counter. He just now realized that there was no table.

“A-Asuka,” he stammered. “What—”

She laughed, her voice reverberating in his skull like some sort of giant bell. He winced.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, giggling more quietly this time. “One hangover cure, coming right up.”

She walked over and knelt beside him. “Relax. You don’t want to know how many people I’ve had to do this to,” she said and rested the fingers of her right hand lightly against his forehead. Before his impaired reflexes would allow him to react, a pulse of chakra slammed into his body and the pain in his head lessened considerably. He blinked a few times, and after a moment, the light didn’t seem so bright anymore.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice rough.

“ _That_ is the most practical application of medical ninjutsu that you’ll ever see. It could probably net me a fortune in this part of town if I was willing to make house-calls.” She swept an errant strand of hair out of her face and stood up, wisely giving him some space.

“Why am I here?”

She smirked. “You didn’t black out, did you? Last night, you and me, bottle of _sake_... We even wound up in bed together.”

“I know what happened,” he snapped, his face reddening at the implication of her words. He knew he would remember if something like _that_ had happened. “How did I end up _here_?”

“I wasn’t about to take you to your father’s house in that condition, and if anyone out here claimed they’d seen Uchiha Itachi stumbling toward a rundown apartment building with a woman, everyone would think _they_ were drunk,” she said, her teasing manner gone.

He hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t been thinking at all. Ashes and death, he was such a fool.

“Don’t worry about it, Itachi-kun. Shit happens,” she said, walking away from him.

 _Not to me. I can never take a risk like that again._ Anything could have happened last night, especially with the deadly game he was playing between his clan and his village. He took a step toward the door.

“You might want to clean up first. You’re a bit of a mess,” Asuka said quietly.

He paused and then turned toward the open door to the left, which lead to Asuka’s bathroom. He was grateful for her suggestion when he saw himself in the tiny mirror above the sink. He looked like shit. When he came back into the other room, Asuka was in her ANBU uniform and on her way out the door.

“I’ve got to head out. I’m running a solo to Kirigakure,” she said. “Simple stuff, probably won’t take more than a few days.”

He nodded.

She looked back at him, concern flickering in her eyes. “If you need to stay here for a bit, you can. There’s food in the fridge and another bottle of the good stuff under the sink. I don’t bother with any kind of security system out here, so I’m sure I don’t need to bother leaving you a key?”

He shook his head.

“Damn it Itachi, you’re the first ANBU shinobi I’ve ever met who doesn’t need a drink or two once in a while. I don’t need to know what’s going on with you, but it’s obvious that you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. Don’t beat yourself up about it, alright?”

When he still didn’t speak, she seemed to give up and took another step away from him. She finally sighed and opened the door.

“Asuka...” he said softly, staring at the floor. “ _Arigato_.”

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “That’s more like it.”

He watched her leave, not sure what he felt inside. He had been completely vulnerable last night, and Asuka treated him like nothing unusual had happened at all. She’d had his back, plain and simple. No one had looked out for him like that since Shisui, and that had been years ago, when he was a child. He’d forgotten what it was like.

 

 _Obito had gotten the young heir embroiled in one of his ambitious schemes, and predictably, it had gone horribly wrong. Itachi was only four, and was the only one still small enough to fit through the window of the Uchiha library’s restricted section. When he’d come out holding some valuable scrolls, he’d accidentally set off an alarm. Two Jounin level shinobi had pursued them, and Obito had bolted using the_ Shunshin _jutsu. Itachi’s short, stubby legs couldn’t carry him away fast enough, and when he rounded the corner into an alley to look for somewhere to hide, he crashed into his other older cousin._

_“Shisui! Help me, please! I can’t find Obito!” he’d begged, looking back as the guards’ footsteps came closer and closer._

_Shisui took one look at the scrolls and said a few words that Itachi didn’t understand, but knew were bad. “...Tear Obito’s lungs out through his ass,” was the most coherent part of it. He took the scrolls and pushed Itachi back behind some trash bins. “Stay put. You hear me? I don’t care what happens, you do not move.”_

_He’d nodded, terrified, as his cousin stepped away from him and faced his pursuers. When they came around the corner, he saw Shisui’s face go white._

_“F-Fugaku-sama,” Shisui stammered, dropping the scrolls in shock._

_The two Jounin guards gathered them up and carefully brushed the dirt off of them, and the Lord of the clan himself glared down at the boy. “What is the meaning of this, Shisui?”_

_“F-f-forgive me, Fugaku-sama. I was just... Curious. Just wanted to read,” he mumbled, deliberately not looking toward Itachi’s hiding place._

_Fugaku hit the boy hard with the back of his hand. Shisui didn’t flinch. “These are not for you, and they are not for that little upstart Obito, either. Don’t lie to me, I know he put you up to it. If either of you boys tried the techniques described in these scrolls, you could kill yourselves and hurt other people in the process. And if anyone outside the clan got their hands on these because of you... You’re old enough to know how the clan deals with traitors.”_

_“Yes, Fugaku-sama. I had no right.” Shisui stared at the ground, waiting._

_Itachi had seen a traitor executed once, less than a month ago. His mother had argued against him going, telling Fugaku that he was too young to see such things, but as the heir to the clan, he had been required to attend. After the man had refused the chance to take his own life and retain what honor he still had, Fugaku had beheaded him and burned his body using the_ katon _. Suddenly, Itachi was very afraid for his cousin. His father wouldn’t really kill Shisui, would he?_

_“Look at me, boy,” Fugaku commanded, and when the nine year old Genin met his eyes, Fugaku activated his Sharingan and cast a genjutsu. Shisui screamed._

_Itachi wanted to run to his side, but Shisui twitched a hand, telling him to stay back. Fugaku didn’t notice. Shisui fell over onto his side and screamed and screamed for a long time, until suddenly, he just stopped._

_“Never again, Shisui,” the Lord of the Uchiha said. The ice in his voice said the rest._ Be grateful I didn’t do worse. You more than deserve it.

_The boy struggled to his knees and bowed, pressing his forehead into the dirt to hide his tears. “Yes, Fugaku-sama. I am so, so sorry. Please, forgive me if you can.”_

_The clan Lord grunted and walked away, leaving him there._

_Only when Itachi was sure his father was gone did he come out and hesitantly tap Shisui on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”_

_The older boy didn’t move, and Itachi remembered that his older cousin was from a side branch of the clan. Though the Uchiha did not seal the members of their branch families like the barbaric Hyuuga clan did, discipline was drilled into them from infancy; he wouldn’t rise until he was told to, no matter how long that took. “Shisui, you can get up now.”_

_His cousin sat up and rubbed the dirt and tears off his face with his sleeve, but he didn’t speak. Maybe he couldn’t speak, after what Fugaku had done to him. Itachi had never seen his cousin like this. Shisui was so strong, but now he was shaking._

_“What did he make you see?” Itachi asked fearfully._

_Shisui shuddered and looked away. “Nothing,_ chibi. _It was nothing. Go home, and don’t tell anyone what happened. Ever.”_

_Itachi shook his head. “He shouldn’t have done that to you. You were only protecting me...”_

_“That’s my duty as a member of the Uchiha clan. And as your cousin. It’s alright.” Shisui didn’t even look angry. That bothered Itachi. His cousin should be mad; it wasn’t fair that he had gotten in trouble for something he hadn’t even been involved in, but it was like he didn’t even care._

_“But Obito will tell him it was me, and then you’ll get in more trouble for lying,” the child said, trying not to cry. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”_

_“Obito won’t rat you out either. I’ll make sure of that,” Shisui said firmly, giving the younger boy a hug. “Just please, please think things through in the future, okay? If Fugaku-sama had caught you doing something like this, you would have gotten it way worse than I did. You’re the heir, your actions reflect on the entire Uchiha clan, so you don’t have the luxury of doing childish things like this. I know you’re just a kid, but you have to think about that, even when it’s hard. I’ll help you however I can, but I’m a shinobi now. I may not always be here.”_

_Itachi smiled, his young mind not yet able to comprehend that his cousin was hurt far worse than he wanted to admit, and that he would get another round of genjutsu torture from his own father for embarrassing their family in front of their clan Lord. “_ Arigato _, Shisui-nii-san.”_

_“Now go on, even I can’t save you from Mikoto-sama’s wrath if you’re late for dinner. Pregnant women are a whole new level of scary. I’m not sure your baby brother is going to be worth all this trouble when he’s finally born.” The older boy used the wall to haul himself to his feet. “I’m going to go find Obito.”_

_“Will you really tear his lungs out through his ass?” Itachi asked, worried by the look in the older boy’s eyes. Shisui was a few years younger than Obito, but every time Itachi had seen them spar, Obito was the one who wound up sprawled in the dirt. Itachi didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of him._

_Shisui laughed grimly. “Only if I have to.”_

 

Itachi surveyed the one-room flat in detail for the first time since he had woken up there. He had never thought to ask where Asuka lived, and now that he knew, he was...embarrassed for her. A shinobi of her level living in filth in the Western Quarter was unheard of. The walls had dents and small holes in the drywall, the mats that covered the floor were stained and scuffed, and what he’d thought was a bed last night was in fact only a pile of blankets and a single thin pillow. Surely she could afford better with the bounties she was earning from her ANBU missions.

 _I can’t let her live like this,_ he decided, and set to work cleaning up. It had been years since he had done any sort of domestic work, his parents having driven him hard into his training by the time he was five, but he didn’t think Asuka would complain if it wasn’t up to par. He gathered all of the garbage into a bag and set it by the door to take out with him later. That turned into three bags by the time he was finished.

Next he gathered the clothes into a basket for her; actually doing her laundry was probably going a step too far, but he could do this much. The stains on the mats, some of which looked suspiciously like old blood, weren’t going to come out, but he swept them and cleared away the layer of dirt that had settled into the floor. He did this with a carefully controlled _fuuton_ jutsu, since, as far as he could tell, Asuka didn’t own a broom. He washed the small mountain of dishes that were piled in the sink and organized them in the cupboards, and tossed all of the expired food into another trash bag. By the time he finished that, all that was left in the fridge was a case of beer and a small bowl of takeout noodles. He considered leaving her money to buy some groceries, but thought better of it almost instantly. Asuka had taken another run after not quite a full day of rest, and a solo at that. She probably didn’t keep food in the house because she knew she’d never have the chance to eat it. He wondered if she was running _from_ something in the same way that he was.

He stood off in one corner to admire his work and laughed quietly. If no one would believe that Uchiha Itachi had come stumbling into this apartment last night, one would have to be a true madman to think that he had cleaned it too. His father would be furious if he heard even a rumor of his son doing something like this, and Shisui would never believe that Asuka hadn’t...er _rewarded_ him in some way. Shisui was the lady-killer who rarely came home at night. For the first time in his life, Itachi was going to be the one to have to explain his absence from breakfast.

He mulled over what he would say if anyone brought it up as he tossed the trash bags into the communal bin outside the apartment building and started walking home. He supposed that, as an ANBU shinobi, he could simply say that he was called away unexpectedly and had worked straight through the night. Sasuke and his mother would certainly buy it, and perhaps even his father, but he was going to catch hell from Shisui when he heard about it. He detoured on his way back to pick up a stick of _dango_. It had been a while since he’d had it, and he thoroughly enjoyed the way the sweetness lingered on his tongue. Sasuke had never enjoyed sweet things, and his tastes had dictated their mother’s shopping lists for the last eight years, so Itachi rarely got such a treat unless he bought it for himself. Not that he really minded; in truth, he thought Sasuke was the one missing out.

He hadn’t planned it, but his route took him past the Academy grounds. From how little attention the children outside for taijutsu training were paying, he gathered that the school day was almost over. Part of him wanted to give them the kind of wake-up call that he had gotten as a boy when he had allowed himself to be distracted from his studies. He still remembered the paralyzing fear of believing that an enemy shinobi was attacking his father and not knowing how to respond, but even as a five year old, Itachi had understood that he needed to act. Fear had messed with his accuracy, but he had gotten one _kunai_ through the attacker’s defenses before getting pummelled and tossed aside like he was nothing.

He’d ended up with three broken ribs, a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder, a black eye, a broken nose, and various cuts and scrapes. All of his injuries were easily manageable by the clan’s resident medic, Uchiha Kagura, but Fugaku had ordered her not to heal the young heir until an hour had passed in order to teach him to handle the pain. She’d spent that entire sixty minutes alternating between throwing things, cursing whichever gods were responsible for allowing Fugaku to become the Lord Uchiha, trying to explain mental techniques that would help block out pain, and apologizing to Itachi that she couldn’t do more. She had been so upset about it that Itachi had ended up being the one to comfort _her._ That night, when Itachi had learned that the “enemy shinobi” had been one of his father’s lieutenants all along, he’d been humiliated.

It had been worse when his father hadn’t even bothered to shout at him for his failure; all he had said was, “If that had been a real attack, you would have let him kill me, Itachi. What if he had gone after your mother and the baby next?”

His father had glared at him until he’d whispered in a shaking voice, “They would have died. And it would have been all my fault.”

No, he would never put another child through that.

A bell chimed and and Itachi made his way to the front courtyard. Sasuke was more than old enough to get home by himself, but Itachi wanted to see him. He leaned back against the fence and waited as the village’s young shinobi to be poured out of the Academy doors. Sasuke spotted him instantly and ran toward him, a crowd of his classmates trailing behind him.

“ _Nii-san!_ What are you doing here?” he asked, smiling.

Before Itachi could speak, another boy with messy brown hair and a white puppy in his arms stopped beside Sasuke. “Whoa, that’s your brother? The ANBU badass you’re always talking about?” he asked, staring up at the older Uchiha. “He’s younger than I thought he’d be. He’s like, Hana’s age.”

Sasuke nodded proudly. “Yep, that’s my big brother, Itachi!”

Itachi shook his head at his little brother’s reaction, as well as being referred to as an “ANBU badass” by an eight year old. Their admiration was amusing, but it was also a double edged sword. When they were old enough to understand what it meant to be in ANBU, to be a shinobi at all, they would feel differently. “You’re Tsume’s boy. Kiba, is it?” he asked, shaking off his melancholy.

The child’s eyes widened. “H-how did you know?” He turned to Sasuke, suddenly accusatory. “You never said he knew mind-reading jutsus!”

Sasuke tried to come up with some defense, but Itachi rescued him. “I didn’t need to read your mind. All of the answers are right in front of me.”

Kiba cocked his head to the side, looking for all the world like a puppy himself. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve worked with Tsume in the past, and she mentioned having a son about your age. You look just like her, and apparently you’ve picked up her vocabulary as well, though that could just as easily be Hana’s doing. Regardless, the pup in your arms marks you as an Inuzuka, and that is not a large clan.”

The boy still looked dubious. “Uh-huh, sure. But how did you know my name?”

Itachi feared for the future of Konoha if this was all a second-year student of the Academy could do. “Sasuke, you see it, don’t you?”

His brother studied Kiba closely, and his eyes widened when he realized what Itachi had seen. “Kiba-kun,” he said, laughing. “Your name is on your lunch sack!”

The Inuzuka boy’s jaw dropped. “T-that’s not fair!”

Itachi raised an eyebrow. “Fair?”

“Yeah, that was a dead giveaway. What about him?” he said, pointing at the boy next to him. “Who is he?”

Itachi looked him over, noting the untamed blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. He could hardly fail to recognize Namikaze Minato’s son, even if his parentage was not common knowledge. “Uzumaki Naruto, village trouble-maker.”

The boy cracked a smile. “That’s me. Believe it!”

“Fine, what about...her?” Kiba said, pointing across the courtyard to where a small girl with short, deep blue hair stood half-hidden behind a tree. She was openly staring at them, but he could tell that she was too timid to come any closer.

Though Itachi had only met the Hyuga heiress once, at the celebration the day her mother had brought the infant girl home from the hospital, he had heard the rumors of her frailty, and even hushed talk of passing her over and giving her birthright to a particularly skillful cousin if Lady Hyuuga failed to conceive another child. With the Hyuuga tradition of valuing the side branches of their clan as little more than meat-shields for the head family, this was extremely unlikely, but if it had even been suggested, the boy must be very talented. As he looked at the little heiress now, he wondered why her father had enrolled her at the Academy at all. The Hyuuga were said to have the gift of foresight, so perhaps he knew something Itachi did not, but he saw nothing of the shinobi spirit in the girl.

“She must be Hyuuga Hinata,” he said, keeping his opinions to himself. One did not insult the Hyuuga unless one wanted to back up their claims in single combat with Lord Hiashi. Having observed the aging man in battle, he thought he had a reasonable chance of surviving that, but the inter-clan fallout would be catastrophic. The ill will between the two ancient clans had turned “friendly” sparring into a death match too many times over the years.

“Wow. You’re really good!” Kiba said. “Hey, will you show us a cool jutsu? The Uchiha use fire, right?”

“Yeah, come on, show us,” Naruto said, and the other children behind them joined in the begging. “Come on, please?”

“I’m afraid not. Perhaps if you ask Iruka-sensei, he would be willing to stay late and teach you something new,” he said.

“Aww, but you’re supposed to be the best! Don’t tell me you’re chicken—” Naruto began, but Sasuke cut him off.

“My big brother doesn’t have time to prove himself to someone like _you_ ,” the younger Uchiha said. “He’s got more important things to do.”

Itachi blinked at the vehemence in the child’s voice.

“Whaddaya mean, to _me?_ I’m not good enough to talk to him?” Naruto said, affronted.

“Well...” Sasuke looked to his brother, hoping to find support, but faltered when Itachi gave him none. “I, um... You’re stupid, and you goof off all the time. My brother is the next in line to lead the Uchiha clan! Why should he waste his time showing you anything?”

“Sasuke!” Itachi said. “That’s enough.”

The boy looked up at him. “But it’s true, _Nii-san_! Naruto doesn’t do anything right, he just likes to make Iruka-sensei yell at us!”

“That’s enough,” he repeated firmly.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then he closed it and stared at the ground.

“Apologize to Naruto-kun,” Itachi ordered.

“Sorry,” he said without looking up.

Itachi put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and led him away. They walked in silence for a while, until they were out of earshot of the other students and their families.

“Why did you say that, Sasuke?” Itachi asked, deliberately keeping his tone neutral so as not to be seen as scolding the boy.

“Because it’s true. You don’t have to waste time playing around with a failure like Naruto.” He peeked up at his brother, as if asking if that was an acceptable answer.

“I meant, why did you bring our clan’s name into it? Why should it matter whether I’m Uchiha, Uzumaki, or a nameless bastard?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened and Itachi mentally chided himself for speaking so crudely in front of him. “We’re Uchiha. We’re one of the greatest clans that’s ever lived. Naruto is just...nothing. Why should he expect you to bother with him?”

“Do you really think that, or is that something you’ve been told?”

Itachi had to give him credit, as young as he was, Sasuke understood the question and carefully considered it before answering. “I guess not. I mean, there are all kinds of strong ninja who aren’t Uchiha, and some of them are, well...you know...” He waved a hand around, knowing that if he said the word ‘bastards’ he would be in trouble. “But father and everyone says that we’re important to the village, and that people don’t respect us enough. He says that the Sharingan used to be feared, and now it’s all but forgotten.”

“He said that to you?” Itachi said quietly. How could their father try to put such thoughts into a child’s head?

“Um, well, not...exactly. I heard him talking to Kaito-sama and the other adults about it a few times,” he said, looking at the ground again. “And to Shisui,” he added, seeming to think that invoking his brother’s best friend’s name would make him less angry.

It only troubled him more. “Listen, _otouto_ ,” he said, stopping in the middle of the bridge and staring at the water to gather his thoughts. “The Uchiha are a powerful clan, of which you and I are a part, but even all of the Uchiha together are only a small part of Konoha, and Konoha is only a small part of the Land of Fire, and the Land of Fire is only a small part of the world. In that large-scale view, the Uchiha matter, certainly, but we are of no more importance than anyone else.”

The boy looked like he was trying to understand.

“Do you remember your history lessons?” Itachi asked.

“Of course I do! I love to read about history,” he said, eager for something that would make sense.

“Do you remember how Konoha began? Who built it?”

“Easy, the Shodai and Nidaime Hokage did it together. They were brothers!”

“Think bigger, _otouto_ ,” Itachi prompted.

The younger Uchiha thought for a moment. “The Senju clan?”

“And? Didn't they form a treaty with someone else?”

“The Senju and the Uchiha clans together!” he said, finally seeing it.

“Very good, Sasuke. Now think even bigger. Every member of the Senju clan had parents and grandparents, and they had friends who had parents, all the way back to the beginning of the world, and the Uchiha had this too. Everyone who ever existed played some small part in the birth of Konoha.”

He looked puzzled again, but he seemed to grasp what Itachi was saying. “So, you mean everyone matters because...they all interact and help shape each other?”

The elder Uchiha smiled. “Exactly. Think about it, _otouto_. If you hadn’t spoken to Naruto today, we would never have talked about this, and you wouldn’t have learned something new.”

Sasuke nodded. “Right. And if Kiba hadn’t talked to you, Naruto wouldn’t have had the guts to either. It’s like a chain reaction.”

They started walking again, Itachi being careful to keep his emotions controlled. Sasuke was perceptive for his age, but he did not need to be involved in the clan’s difficulties. He was just a child. _A child a full year older than I was when I graduated the Academy and became a shinobi of the Leaf. I had already made my first kill, and many more, by the time I was his age. The only mission Sasuke has completed is picking out which games are rigged at festivals so Shisui and I can bust them. What a lucky child..._

When Itachi was six, a newly admitted Academy student, there was a string of kidnappings in Konoha of both shinobi and civilian children between the ages of five and eight. The victims were mostly boys, but a few girls, too, with no apparent pattern. His father, as chief of police, was tasked with finding the criminal. Guards around the Academy and requiring that the children be escorted home had made little difference, and from the lack of evidence left at the scenes, it was likely that the kidnapper was an active duty or former shinobi, at least B-rank, possibly higher.

Fugaku had decided that the only way to catch the kidnapper was to know which child he would target next, and had used Itachi as bait. The young boy had been thrilled when his father had told him that he would be going on his first official mission for the Uchiha clan, but after wandering the village apparently unsupervised for a week without incident, both he and his hidden guards had become overconfident. One moment, Itachi was sitting on a bench reading a comic book, the next, he had vanished. When he regained consciousness, he relayed his position using the concealed radio in his shirt, but “I’m in the middle of the woods east of the village,” was not particularly helpful, and in the end, he had had to take matters into his own small hands. It had been Shisui who found him, sitting in a puddle of blood next to the rigid body of his kidnapper, staring into an open pit that contained the bodies of the other missing children in various states of decomposition. One little red haired girl had died only minutes ago, succumbing to a stab wound to her stomach and the resulting infection. Her name had been Rukia, and she had entered the Academy at the same time as Itachi, though they were put in separate classes.

 

_“You killed him?” his cousin asked, awestruck._

_Itachi nodded numbly, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he suppressed the Sharingan before his cousin could see it. It had been a year, and now two_ tomoe _whirled in each eye, but Itachi had never told anyone. Not even Shisui._

_“Shit, ‘Tachi! I should have been here! If I’d thought for one second that this would happen...” Shisui trailed off, punching the ground. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you hurt?”_

_Itachi shrugged, unable to look away from the pit. “They’re all dead. I thought I was going to be a hero, save them and take them home to their families, but then...she... I told her to hold on, but... I thought...”_

_Shisui scooped him up in his arms like he was an infant, breaking the trance. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”_

_“What about the head? Someone has to take it in to prove he’s dead.” Itachi scrambled to get down and finish doing his duty, but Shisui wouldn’t let go._

_“I’ll have Inabi-san come get it. Now quit squirming before I throw you in the river,” he teased, though his tone didn’t quite match the playful words. Shisui wouldn’t be jaded enough to do that for a few more years._

_Itachi was so tired that he acquiesced and let himself be carried, unable to stop the tears, even after he had steadied his breathing. After a while, he realized that his cousin was walking normally instead of using his precious_ Shunshin _jutsu. Shisui never turned down the opportunity to display his prowess with the technique, or to use cheesy pick up lines like “I don’t do_ everything _fast,” or “I almost left my pants behind,” on his squadmates, Megumi and Ayame. It wasn’t like him to take an hour to make a trip that he could manage in less than five minutes, even burdened by Itachi’s slight weight._

 _Shisui noticed his questioning look and attempted something close to a smile. “Thought I’d give you a few minutes of peace. Your first kill, and solo at that... Little_ tensai. _The Elders will be on you like Kakashi-san’s_ ninken _on the last slice of bacon when they hear about this.”_

_It was an apt comparison for the way the clan reacted to most of the young heir’s accomplishments, and he was not looking forward to enduring their fawning attention again. Especially for doing something like this. “It wasn’t my first.”_

_Shisui stopped in his tracks. “What did you just say?”_

_“Do you remember, during the war, after Sasuke was born?” Itachi whispered, staring at a point just over his cousin’s shoulder. “_ Okaa-san _was still in the hospital, but she told me to take Sasuke home, since hospitals are such easy targets._ Otou-san _and you and all the others left him with me when they went to fight. He started crying and I couldn’t make him go to sleep, and... There were so many of them, all drawn toward the noise. I k-killed at least t-twenty that night.”_

 _A year later, and the memory still made him stammer. But then, things seen with even a fledgling Sharingan never truly faded from the mind; it could have been a year or a day, and there would be no difference. He’d had nightmares for months, and even now, he still sometimes woke up with his mouth open in a silent scream, feeling hot, sticky blood soaking his arms, his shirt, his face. He could still hear the way they screamed as he burned them alive with the_ katon _, or the rattling final breath when his_ kunai _blades struck home in their hearts and throats_. _He still felt the way a man’s windpipe had caved in so easily under his small fingers when Itachi had jumped on him from behind; that one had been too close to Sasuke for him to risk anything other than close-range taijutsu. For the rest of the night, his little brother had shrieked every time Itachi touched him, his infant mind only able to register that the older boy was dangerous, even if it wasn’t to him. That part had hurt the most. The next day, he had sworn to himself, a naive child’s promise, that he would never kill again. He’d always known, deep down, that he wouldn’t be able to keep that vow for long, but... A quiet sob escaped his throat before he could stop it._

 _“_ Kami _, ‘Tachi,” Shisui breathed. “I am so sorry. I never knew.”_

 _“No one knows. I don’t want them to know._ I _don’t want to know,” Itachi said, his voice rising a little in near hysteria before he took control of himself. “Please don’t tell anyone. It’s in the past now.”_

 _“I won’t,” he said, holding Itachi closer to his chest. “But I promise you, you will_ never _have to go through that again. Not alone, anyway. I’m here for you, no matter what.”_

_He silently relaxed into his cousin’s arms for a few more miles, but the moment he saw the village wall peeking through the trees, he tensed again. “Put me down. I can’t be seen like this.”_

_Shisui looked down at the small boy in his arms and saw that Itachi had dried his tears and looked perfectly composed, if a little embarrassed. Not for the last time, the younger boy’s exceptional control of his emotions seemed almost inhuman. “You sure?” he asked hesitantly. “You can take a few minutes at my place, get yourself together and clean up before...”_

_Itachi shook his head firmly, and his voice unconsciously imitated the clipped, authoritative tone that his father often used with his men. “Thank you, but I can’t. I should have brought back the head, but I failed to do that. If you insist on carrying me, at least break my leg first. When I appear weak, the clan appears weak.”_

_“You’re not weak! You just killed an A-rank shinobi and saved who knows how many children from being hurt in the future! And goddammit, you’re six years old! I know you’re good, but you don’t have to be that good!” Shisui half-shouted, forgetting Mikoto’s standing order not to swear in front of Itachi in his outrage. “I can’t believe Fugaku made you do this! It’s wrong, ‘Tachi. Fucking wrong. Don’t you see that? If I thought I had half a chance in hell of pulling it off, I’d k—”_

_Itachi gently placed two fingers against the older boy’s lips. “Please, Shisui-nii-san, don’t finish that sentence.” His hotheaded cousin was less than a breath from speaking treason against the clan. Fugaku, in his role as the Lord of the Uchiha and the chief of police, had chosen the best man for the job, and that man just happened to be a six year old boy. Right and wrong had no place in the life of a shinobi, only ability. That’s what he tried to tell himself, anyway. “I have to do this.”_

_Shisui sighed sadly, but he set Itachi on his feet and walked back to the village gate with him in silence. There was no hiding the blood that had stained the front of Shisui’s jacket, but from the way Itachi walked, calmly, slowly, with the regal air of an Uchiha warrior, no one would have guessed that not even ten minutes ago, he had been curled up in his older cousin’s arms like the child he no longer was. Never was._

_That night, the clan held a feast to commemorate the young heir’s ‘first’ kill. Itachi was careful to show none of the weakness that he had revealed to Shisui, but he had no patience for the elder members of the clan who treated the event like it was something worth celebrating. He listened to their stories about their firsts and his father’s speech about the strength of the Uchiha bloodline distilling itself in the young_ tensai, _the clan prodigy. He even accepted the ritual cup of_ sake, _which was only a few drops because of his age, without complaint, but the moment the ceremony finished, he bolted for his room and sealed the door and the window with every explosive tag he owned so no one could enter. He didn’t come out for three days._

 

Sasuke was talented, certainly, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. No child was ever ready to face battle, to take a life, to watch their comrades die. Not even the prodigy Uchiha Itachi had been prepared for that.

“ _Nii-san,_ where are we going?” Sasuke asked.

Itachi made himself smile, forcing his regrets aside. “I thought you wanted to work on your _shuriken_ skills.”

The child’s face lit up. “Really? You’re really going to train with me?”

The surprise in the boy’s voice cut like a knife. _Do I truly spend so little time with him?_ “I don’t have any pressing assignments today, and I’ve been curious to see how much you’ve learned.”

They reached the Uchiha training ground at the South end of the estate and Sasuke was practically jumping up and down with excitement as Itachi set up a target for him. It was a simple wooden post, nicked and scarred from thousands of hours of practice by dozens of Uchiha shinobi, but it would do. Itachi stepped off from it and drew a line in the dirt with his foot.

“From here, just one at a time,” he said, getting out of his brother’s way.

The boy looked uncertain. “Um, I’ve never thrown from this distance before, _Nii-san_.”

“That’s how you get better. Always push it one step further than last time if you want to improve. After all, _shuriken_ are long-range weapons. It doesn’t do any good if you can only hit your target accurately from a short distance.”

Sasuke nodded, clearly not sure if he would be able to do it. “Don’t be mad if I miss,” he whispered.

Itachi pretended not to hear. The child needed confidence, not coddling, and even if he did miss, there would be no lecture from him, only guidance and steady improvement.

Sasuke took his first shot, and it struck home only slightly off center. He looked up at Itachi for approval. “Did you see that? I hit it!”

“Not bad, _otouto._ You’ve got a strong arm and plenty of power. Do ten more, and focus on accuracy.”

Itachi watched him carefully as the boy lined up his second shot, His stance was solid, and his technique was good. He was a bit slow at taking the time to aim each throw, but that was to be expected at his age. Before long, it would be second nature to him.

“Good, Sasuke. Very good. Let’s make it a bit harder now.” Itachi marked off two lines about ten yards to either side of the target post, about a foot further back than the line Sasuke had thrown from. “I want you to run from one line to the other, and throw as many _shuriken_ as you can at the target on your way. And run fast. Battle is never still.”

“I thought you said I should try a moving target next,” he asked as he yanked his _shuriken_ out of the post and headed to the line on the right.

“I thought about it, but this will help you more. It’s more important for you to keep moving than to hit a moving enemy, at least for now.” _I’d rather you stay alive than kill your enemies._ The boy had years left before he would make Genin, and probably a few more years after that before he would be put in any real danger, but still, images of Sasuke dying on a mission because Itachi had been too neglectful to prepare him came unbidden to the older Uchiha’s mind, and it was all he could do to keep his face impassive.

Sasuke stood at the line, _shuriken_ in hand as he judged the distance to the target. He launched himself forward, throwing every two or three steps until he reached the other side of the target, then he became confused. He made two or three awkward attempts that didn’t come anywhere near the post. When he reached the other side, he looked back at his brother. “How do I hit a target that’s behind me?”

Itachi joined him at the line. “Watch carefully.”

He started out slowly so his brother could see, throwing on every step on the way toward the target. When he was level with it, he threw three at once, and once he was past it, he looked back over his shoulder. The motion of the throw was essentially the same, but it was impossible to get the same amount of power, and all of the control came from the wrist. When he reached the other line, the front and both sides of the post were studded with _shuriken_.

“Can you tell which ones I threw running forward, and which ones were when I was throwing backwards?” he asked, gesturing for Sasuke to look.

“They all hit the same way. The only difference I see is where they’re placed. You can’t aim at _this_ side when you’re over _there_ ,” he said after a moment.

“Exactly. This isn’t something a lot of shinobi learn, especially not in the Academy, but being able to provide your own cover fire when you’re retreating is invaluable.” He pulled the _shuriken_ out of the post and put them back in their pouch. “Your turn.”

The boy ran again, and though his accuracy was constantly improving when the target was in front of him, it was still only mediocre once he had to throw behind him. But each pass he made was a little better, and after an hour or so, he had gotten the hang of the complicated movement. Itachi was proud of him. As the sun set behind them, the younger Uchiha was panting and his arms were shaking, but he didn’t ask for a break. He turned and ran again, hitting the target dead center on his way toward it. He looked back as he passed it, not slowing the rhythm of his throws, but then simple exhaustion made him stumble and he hit the ground hard.

Itachi was at his side in seconds. “Are you alright?”

“Owww,” the boy whined, pushing himself up. “I’m bleeding, _Nii-san!_ ”

Sasuke held out his hand and showed his brother a long slice from where he’d gripped the _shuriken_ too tightly when he fell. It was deep enough that it had severed some of the delicate muscles. _So many injuries that young shinobi suffer in training would devastate their civilian counterparts_ , Itachi thought regretfully. Without medical ninjutsu, the boy would certainly have lost most of the functioning of his hand.

“Hold still, I’ll take care of it.” Itachi focused his chakra on the deep cut in much the same way as when he had healed his own arm...was it only a day ago? He supposed it must have been, but it felt so much longer. His little brother watched in awe as the pain stopped and the skin knit itself together without even a scar. Itachi wiped the blood away and smiled. “Better?”

Sasuke nodded shyly. “I’m glad _Otou-san_ wasn’t here to see that.”

Itachi winced, remembering his own early training with their father. Showing weakness was forbidden among the Uchiha, and Sasuke’s display of it just now... “So am I.”

“Can you teach me how to do that? Heal people?” he asked, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Your chakra control isn’t precise enough for medical ninjutsu yet, though if you work hard at it, someday you might be able to. I’ll teach you a few exercises later so you can practice.” Itachi thought wistfully of his childhood dream of joining the medical corps. His father had forbidden it of course; the Uchiha had been a clan of shinobi warriors for centuries and would never consent to be led by anyone who could not follow that path. _Perhaps Sasuke will follow that dream for me_ , he thought, watching as the boy turned his hand over in front of him, examining the spot that his brother had healed. Itachi almost laughed at his childish fascination with it and poked him in the forehead to get his attention. “Come on, _otouto_. _Okaa-san_ will have dinner ready for us soon,” he said, helping the boy to his feet. “You know how upset she gets when you’re late.”

They walked through the Uchiha estate, Sasuke beaming as he chattered on and on about how he wouldn’t ever have to retreat when he was a ninja, but at least now he could throw _shuriken_ backwards. Itachi didn’t correct him about the importance of being able to decide when a mission was lost; he would learn that with experience if he made it to Chunin. And he undoubtedly would. If he could learn something that difficult without the Sharingan to aid him, his potential could be limitless once he awakened it. For his sake, Itachi hoped that didn’t happen any time soon.

They took off their shoes as they entered the house, following the smell of something delicious wafting out from the kitchen. Their mother stepped out and looked at them, concern and more than a little anger in her dark eyes.

“Sasuke! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting hours for you! I was about to call the police!” she demanded. “And why are you such a mess? Is that blood on your shirt?”

Itachi stepped protectively in front of his little brother; while he didn’t believe that their mother would ever lay a hand on Sasuke in anger, he knew that if he didn’t defuse this now, before their father came home, the boy would regret it. In retrospect, he supposed he should have considered their mother’s reaction when her youngest son didn’t come home from the Academy, but if Itachi had disappeared for a few hours at that age, it wouldn’t have been cause for alarm. Even now, she made no mention of the fact that her elder son hadn’t come home last night. “Forgive me, _Okaa-san_. Yesterday, I said I would train with Sasuke, but time got away from me. As I hadn’t received another assignment yet, I decided to pick him up from the Academy and work on _shuriken_ techniques with him.”

She stared at him. “Oh. Um, that was...nice of you, Itachi. Thank you.” She seemed lost for a moment, but then the kunoichi-turned-housewife narrowed her eyes. “You boys are not sitting at my table looking like this. Get cleaned up before your father gets home.”

Itachi checked his anger at being treated like an errant child, as he knew that it was mostly directed at Sasuke. After the boy’s outburst last night, he supposed he could understand their mother attempting to portray a sense of fairness, even when it didn’t apply. “Of course, _Okaa-san_.”

Both of them washed up and put on clean clothes and were waiting at the table by the time they heard the door open for their father. He gave Itachi a surprised look, but didn’t ask him where he had been. He divided up the rice, curry, and other dishes his wife had prepared and settled in to eat.

“ _Otou-san_ , guess what I did today?” Sasuke asked.

Fugaku shrugged. It was as close to outright ignoring the boy as he could get without causing a fight. It was Mikoto who smiled and turned toward him. “What, Sasuke?”

“ _Nii_ - _san_ taught me how to throw _shuriken_ at a target that’s behind me!” he said, sticking out his little chest with pride. He proceeded to tell them all about how he had learned it, demonstrating the movement of his wrist and explaining how it was different from throwing forwards. Mikoto ruffled his hair and told him how proud she was, saying that he would have to show her sometime. Fugaku only looked mildly interested, but even he was forced to admit that that was a fairly advanced technique to be able to do at such a young age. Of course, he couldn’t resist pointing out that he had taught Itachi how to do the same thing when he was six. Normally, Sasuke would have been upset to hear another way in which his brother had surpassed him, but tonight, he was so pleased with himself that he almost didn’t seem to notice it. Itachi excused himself as soon as politeness allowed.


	5. Chapter 5

He avoided going home for the next few days, spending his days doing paperwork at the ANBU headquarters and sleeping at Asuka’s little flat on an inflatable twin size mattress he’d bought at the market. He’d considered buying her something nice, but he had no idea what she would like, and it wasn’t like the sparse decor gave him any hints. No mission assignments came his way, citing some obscure rule about mandatory recovery time from his grueling schedule over the last few months. He figured that was most likely Sarutobi’s doing, especially after his comment at their last meeting about Itachi running himself ragged. Perhaps he should have been grateful for the rest period, but he wasn’t. His father and the clan Elders had been pressing for a more in-depth report of ANBU’s surveillance on the clan, and Itachi was just fed up with it all. It was his duty, and he would do it. But not right now.

It was pouring rain one night as he made his way back from headquarters, which might be why he didn’t notice the dim light coming through the curtains that covered the windows of Asuka’s flat. He opened the door to see her sitting on the floor in nothing but a pair of shorts and a black tank top, facing away from him. There was a bowl of water and a rudimentary medical kit beside her.

She looked over her shoulder, and he saw that her right eye was swollen and her face was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that only came with intense pain. “I see you’ve made yourself at home, Itachi-kun. I hardly...recognize the place. What’d you do with all my stuff?”

He hesitated, and then came inside. “Asuka-san... What happened?”

“Nothing.” She hissed as she pulled at the stitching thread that had halfway closed a messy gash on her left leg. “Much.”

He knelt beside her, angry in a way that he had never been before. It took a moment for him to detach himself from the fact that this was his squadmate and friend as his eyes scanned her, taking stock of her injuries. Aside from the wicked gash on her leg, there was another one that she had already finished stitching on her right arm, and multiple smaller cuts and burns that would need bandages, but nothing more. They were all shallow wounds, but they were messy and painful. He wouldn’t have been as worried if it weren’t for the way her breathing hitched every time she moved; broken ribs for certain. He hoped the stubborn girl didn’t ignore the potential for her to puncture a lung.

“You should have gone to a medic. ”

She shrugged, pulling the thread through another loop. “Nothing lethal. Ah, _shit_ that hurts. Fuck this cheap anesthetic cream! I ought to know by now, you can’t trust anything you buy on Fifth Street! Bring me a bottle of _sake_ , would you?”

“Let me see what I can do,” he said, focusing his chakra into his fingertips as he reached for her, but he stopped cold at the look in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare touch me. I don’t need your help, and I really don’t need this on my official record.” She gritted her teeth and finished the last few stitches. “There, good as new.”

“What happened, Asuka-san?” he asked, his demeanor shifting from a concerned comrade to that of her squad Captain.

Being Asuka, she didn’t acknowledge the change. She dragged herself across the small room and grabbed the half-empty bottle stashed under the sink. “Things...didn’t exactly go according to plan. But they never do, so what the hell?”

She wasn’t going to tell him. Konoha and Kirigakure were on reasonably friendly terms lately, so he didn’t know what she could have been up to out there that had left her in this condition. He could make it an official order for her to tell him, but something in the way she’d looked at him when she’d said she didn’t want this on her record told him that might not be a good idea. The ANBU shinobi existed for a reason; they went outside official channels at times, and if Asuka was involved in something important, he couldn’t risk jeopardizing that.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, letting her know that he was backing off.

She visibly relaxed as she took a drink. “You’re too young to buy me another bottle. Go home, Itachi-kun. I’ve got this.”

He waited for a minute longer, and then left. It was a long walk back to the Uchiha estate, but he didn’t mind. It gave him time to think. Asuka had taken a solo mission to Kirigakure and come back with injuries that she didn’t want to be known, injuries that didn’t have anything in common with those she might have received in combat. She’d been tortured. She hadn’t even accepted his offer of off-the-record help. Either she was involved in something S-class secret, or she’d done something...unofficial. Knowing Asuka, it would have to be the first. For a feral cat, she was sincere in her loyalty to the village, and she was stubborn as hell. She’d be a good choice for something that needed to remain secret at all costs. Not even an entire bottle of _sake_ could make her spill her thoughts if she didn’t want to. He decided to trust her. If she came to him for help, he would be there, but until then, he wouldn’t get in her way. She knew what she was doing.

 

When he woke the next morning for breakfast, no one commented on his long absence. Even Sasuke seemed to understand that when Itachi went away, he wasn’t supposed to ask questions. His little brother did some last-minute homework at the silent table before running off to the Academy and Itachi quickly followed. He found himself on the banks of the Nakano River, a place he often visited when he needed to think, and was surprised to see Shisui there as well, resting his feet in the water.

He looked up as Itachi approached. “Hey, little cousin. How’ve you been?”

“Death by a thousand papercuts,” he said, showing him a particularly deep one he’d gotten sorting some files at the office yesterday. “You?”

“Eh,” Shisui replied evasively.

Itachi raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Shisui-nii-san?”

“It’s the strangest thing. I’ve been asked to lead a team of new Genin.” He kicked his feet gently under the water. “Totally out of the blue.”

“Are you going to accept?” he asked curiously.

“I’m not sure.” he said. “I hardly seem like _sensei_ material.”

“Clearly somebody thinks you are. Do you think this show of trust in you is misplaced?” he asked pointedly.

Shisui seemed to understand; giving this position to him was, by extension, an honor to the Uchiha clan. The Elders would never let him turn it down. “I guess not, but... It was just...unexpected. I mean, I’ve served in ANBU as an assassin since I was fourteen. Not exactly the ideal background for someone who’s going to be looking after a group of kids. One of the little bastards sneaks up on me, and I could take their head off before I even realize what’s happening.”

Itachi shrugged, not wanting to give away his role in it. “Maybe it will force you to grow up a little.”

Shisui punched him lightly on the arm. “That wouldn’t be much fun, now, would it? You’d be a better choice than me for this sort of thing. Sasuke won’t shut up about how you taught him to throw _shuriken_. I swear, the kid thinks the sun shines out of your ass.”

“It didn’t take much teaching. The boy’s a natural.”

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the flow of the river carry the falling autumn leaves out of sight.

“Itachi...” the older boy began. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in almost a week. Mikoto-sama is worried about you,” he said, not looking at him.

“I’ve been working,” he said, telling himself that it wasn’t really a lie. Lying to Shisui hurt more than he ever anticipated.

“For six days straight? Come off it, something’s wrong,” Shisui prodded.

He dodged the question. “Something is always wrong, or ANBU wouldn’t need to exist.”

Shisui glanced around and lowered his voice. “I don’t think ANBU has anything to do with why you’ve been spending your nights in an empty flat in the West Quarter. Really, Itachi-kun, even a virgin like you ought to know that if you’re staying at a girl’s house overnight, the girl is supposed to _be there_. I haven’t told anyone, but...”

Itachi froze. _How much does he know?_ “Shisui-nii-san, I can’t explain everything to you, but I will say that it is legitimate ANBU business.”

Shisui met his eyes for the first time that day. “I know exactly what it is, Itachi.”

Itachi looked at him, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I know why you don’t come home anymore, why you’ve taken on the insane mission schedule that you have just to stay out of the village for even one more day. I know you’ve been drinking. The feeling you get when you come back here... It takes everything you have to look Fugaku-sama in the eye when he speaks to you, doesn’t it? No one should ever have to choose between their family and their village, the heir least of all.”

“S-Shisui...” So he knew everything. Shisui had always seen through the great Uchiha prodigy in a way that no one else, not even his own parents, ever could. Itachi felt the hot pinpricks in his eyes that threatened to become tears. If Shisui revealed that he was a traitor, Fugaku and the Elders would shut him out, and he wouldn’t have any warning before the coup began. And that was assuming they didn’t kill him outright. His hand tightened around the cold metal of a _kunai_ knife behind his back. _Ashes and death, Shisui...please don’t make me...please...I can’t..._

“I chose Konoha, ‘Tachi. I can’t let Fugaku-sama start another war, and I will _never_ turn my blade on my people. We took an oath when we graduated the Academy, and I intend to keep it.” The older Uchiha put a hand on his younger cousin’s shoulder. “I’m glad I’m not alone in that choice.”

Itachi released the chakra that he had built up and pulled his hand out of his _kunai_ holster. “How did you know?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

“I know _you_. You may be Fugaku-sama’s son, but you are nothing like him.”

Itachi stared at the river and willed the grateful tears from his eyes before they could fall. “ _Arigato,_ Shisui-nii-san.”

The older boy had the grace to pretend not to notice. “I’ll be proud to call you Lord Uchiha someday.” He hit him in the arm again, this time a bit harder. “But for now, you’re still my annoying prat of a cousin. You could have come to me. How could you even _think_ that I’d choose anything over peace in Konoha?”

Itachi rose, a real smile on his face for the first time in months. “You should watch how you speak to me. Not only am I the next head of the clan, I outrank you too.”

“You weren’t so high and mighty when I changed your diapers.”

“Times change.”

“Hey, ‘Tachi!” Shisui called as he walked away. “Clan meeting tonight. Be there?”

Itachi nodded. “Seems I’m grounded for another day to prevent chakra exhaustion, so I have little choice.”

“Same time as always, then. Enjoy your cushy desk job while you have it.”

Itachi didn’t dignify that last bit with a response. Instead, he gathered his chakra for a _Shunshin_. Just before his body blurred out of existence, he heard his cousin mutter “Show off.” That was somewhat ironic coming from _Shunshin no Shisui_ himself, and made Itachi laugh out loud.

When he descended the stairs to ANBU’s underground headquarters, he was still smiling slightly. He got a few odd looks from his comrades, but no one spoke to him. He settled in at his desk in the far corner and took the top file from the stack. Renji and Kenshin were back from their mission to Sunagakure, but apparently Kenshin had been hit with a poison-tipped _shuriken_ and was requesting medical leave for two weeks. Itachi scratched his approval on the line at the bottom. He also granted Renji a four-day rest period, since he had been running every bit as hard as Itachi and Asuka had been. He couldn’t let his team members burn themselves out too soon. He debated putting Asuka on a mandatory leave as well, but he restrained himself. She would probably hunt him down and try to kill him just to show that she didn’t need it, and hurt herself worse in the process. He glanced around the office and didn’t see her. He hoped that she at least had the sense to stay in her flat and recover if she wouldn’t go to a medic.

The hours crawled by as he read over information reports and other trivialities, but even that did nothing to reduce the joy in his heart. Itachi felt almost...buoyant. He had an ally within the clan, and it was the one man that he would have chosen if he’d known he had the choice. Perhaps without the support of the two clan prodigies, the plan for an Uchiha coup d'etat would crumble. And Shisui would soon be training a team of new Genin, which would only help to distance him from the dangerous politics of the clan and protect him from the fallout, not to mention getting him out of ANBU. There was hope. For the first time in ages, Itachi genuinely felt that there was hope.

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” a voice said.

Itachi looked up from the file he was reading. “It is a good day, Kakashi-san.”

Despite the mask that covered most of his face, the older ANBU agent still managed to convey a sense of vague bemusement. “I just came by to let you know, Hokage-sama wants to see you before you go home tonight.”

Itachi glanced at the clock. He was scheduled to leave in five minutes. “How long ago did he ask you to tell me that?”

Kakashi laughed. “First thing this morning, but you see, there was—”

“A convention of old ladies who needed help crossing the street?” Itachi offered, long accustomed to the older man’s habit of making ridiculous excuses for his tardiness. It was irritating, but nothing could be done about it. As with Asuka, he knew better than to try.

“How’d you guess? No, actually. Jiraiya’s new book just hit the shelves and I had to get a copy before they sold out.” He held up a copy of the red paperback entitled Make Out Paradise.

Itachi shook his head in mock disgust and stood up. “Top quality literature there. Don’t let me keep you from it.”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” Kakashi said, walking away and somehow managing not to trip over anything despite the book in front of his face.

 

The walk to the Hokage’s tower took Itachi less than ten minutes.

“You wished to speak to me, Hokage-sama?” he asked as he stepped into the office.

The older man looked up from his paperwork. “Ah, yes. On your advice, I’ve offered Shisui the leadership of a Genin team. It’s a small class this year, and extending the offer to the others as well would have looked like a suspicious amount of favoritism. I did ask Miku if she would be interested in teaching advanced genjutsu at the Academy, but she has not yet given me an answer. I heard about her recent injury and I hope she is healing well.”

“I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to Miku, but Shisui told me that he intends to accept.”

“Has there been any sign of the tension lessening?” the Hokage asked.

 _How can I say that I’ve run from my duty and hidden in the Western Quarter for a week?_ “I’m not sure yet, but there is a clan meeting tonight. I’ll get a better idea of where everyone stands then. I’m thinking that we may be able to end the threat now, before any lives are lost.”

The older man raised an eyebrow. “Has there been some new development?”

“I am not the only Uchiha loyal to Konoha, Hokage-sama,” he said simply. He didn’t want to risk endangering Shisui by revealing his part in this too soon.

The Hokage seemed to understand his hesitation. “That is encouraging to hear, Itachi. I’ll do what I can to keep the council occupied until your next report, but the sooner that is, the better.”

Itachi bowed and left. He really had been slipping in his duty; he hadn’t heard anything about Miku being asked to teach. He sighed and followed the familiar path back to the estate.

 

That night, he walked with his father to the meeting house, and this time, they were not alone. The grand central room was filled with Uchiha shinobi. Fugaku took his place on the dais at the front along with the clan Elders. Itachi sat in the first row facing them, as befit his position as the clan’s heir. He was very careful not to glance back at Shisui. If it looked like they had come to the decision to oppose Fugaku separately, others might be more likely to join them. As Fugaku stood and welcomed his clansmen, Itachi calmed his thoughts and readied himself.

Miku rose from her seat at the back of the room and bowed. Her left arm was still in a sling, but other than that, she looked well enough, if a bit tired. Despite the fact that she was only half Uchiha, a bastard who had been declared legitimate and taken into the clan once she awakened her Sharingan, as was the custom of the greater clans in order to maintain control of their _kekkei genkai_ , Miku was a rising star in the police force. Not even an injury while on duty could keep her out of the office, even if all she could manage for the next few days was writing reports.

“Fugaku-sama, Elders, I have been offered a teaching position at the Academy. Advanced genjutsu for high-level students. With the schedule I was presented, it would not interfere too much with my work as an officer. It is rare for Academy students to achieve the level of mastery that is required for this course, and as such, it is offered only two mornings each week.”

Itachi hadn’t considered that, but it made perfect sense. The Hokage would surely have considered Miku’s record of dedication to the police force, and would not have offered her anything that would conflict with that. There could be no grounds to deny her the chance to accept this honor.

Fugaku considered for a moment, his face unreadable. “Your knowledge of genjutsu is commendable and would be a benefit to our village’s young shinobi,” he said, and Itachi thought it was almost grudgingly. “Are you interested in accepting this position?”

“I am not, Fugaku-sama.”

Itachi froze. Miku had helped train nearly every young Uchiha in genjutsu and had tutored at the Academy on a regular basis until her duties to the force had made it impossible. _Why would she refuse? Surely she sees that this is a way of reaching out to the clan, she’s not a fool..._

“Of course, if the Elders wish me to accept, I will do so, but I have no interest in teaching. I feel that I am of more value to the clan as a full-time member of the police,” she continued.

Fugaku and the Elders conferred for a moment, and then he turned back to her. “I would not force this position on you against your will. You’re a good officer, and you serve your clan and your village well in that capacity. If it is your wish, you may decline the offer.”

Miku bowed low. “Thank you, Fugaku-sama. I will inform the Hokage of my decision in the morning.”

Fugaku nodded and she took her seat again. “Is there any other important business to be brought before the clan?”

Shisui rose. “I have been asked to lead a team of new Genin. I have already met them, and though they are not from notable clans, they are strong children who I feel will only grow in their abilities. Training the next generation of Konoha shinobi is an honor far above any I could gain in the missions I would otherwise take on. I intend to accept.”

Fugaku looked surprised, and suddenly, Itachi understood. Miku had already spoken to Fugaku about her offer, and seeing no way to refuse, he must have convinced her to decline of her own volition. Shisui, however, had waited until the public meeting to bring this to the attention of the Elders, and they were not prepared for it.

Shisui had left the Uchiha Lord no room to maneuver, and Fugaku was furious. “You decided this without the clan’s input?”

Shisui didn’t respond immediately; to say yes would be the height of arrogance and stupidity, but to say no would show weakness in the face of confrontation. “Is there some reason why I should not accept, Fugaku-sama?”

“These children will only hold you back. Is that what they are trying to do to us? To take our brightest and strongest and keep them in positions where they cannot be utilized?” Fugaku said, his words obviously intended more for the crowd than for Shisui himself. “Miku teaching genjutsu to children, Shisui babysitting a squad of Genin... We are the Uchiha, the Sharingan wielders, and we will not stand for this!”

Itachi had never known his carefree, relaxed cousin to be a player in the political power games of the Uchiha clan, but Shisui had Fugaku grasping at straws to find a way to maintain control. _He won’t allow any opportunity for peace,_ Itachi thought, seeing his father in a new light. _He’s so set on taking power for the Uchiha that he will let nothing dissuade him._

“Is that what you want the people to think of when they see us? Are we to be nothing more than warriors?” Itachi said, standing as well.

Fugaku rounded on his eldest son. “Perhaps you have forgotten, seeing as you are never here, but the Uchiha are a clan of shinobi. This is what we _are_ , what we must be. Without us, Konoha will fall to its knees within weeks.”

“Violence and death...” Itachi shook his head. “We are capable of so much more than that. There are many ways that the Uchiha can serve Konoha, and teaching and nurturing the talents of the young shinobi who will protect the village after us is honorable.”

“Don’t tell me they have approached you with such an offer as well?” Fugaku cried.

“No, _Otou-san_ , but I would not have refused.” Itachi looked around at his clansmen, hoping they would hear him. “We are shinobi, warriors who will protect our home with our lives, but that cannot be our only role. Has it truly been so long since we had peace in Konoha? Do we know nothing more than fighting and killing? Is fear the only form of respect that we recognize?”

“Peace is fleeting. You should know this, perhaps better than many of us.” Fugaku held up a hand to forestall any argument his son might make. “I will hear no more of your insolence, Itachi. Leave us.”

There was no getting through to him, and no one came to Itachi’s defense. Whatever hope he had felt for his family that morning turned to ash in his heart. _We are lost. You and your pride have damned us all, Otou-san._ Itachi turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. He saw Shisui start to follow, but he gestured for him to stay. There was no need for his cousin to draw any more of Fugaku’s rage than he already had. He locked eyes with Miku as he yanked the door open and saw regret, but no indecision in their depths. She would not go against the will of the clan, not for him. None of them would.


	6. Chapter 6

It was Sasuke who found him hours later, sitting on a high branch of one of the trees on the edge of the estate

“ _Nii-san_ , are you okay?” he asked, climbing up the gutter of a nearby house and jumping onto the limb beside him. He wobbled slightly as he landed, but he got his balance quickly and sat down.

Itachi forced himself to stop trembling. “You should be in bed, _otouto._ ”

The child gave him a stubborn look. “ _Otou-san_ and _Okaa-san_ are fighting. He called you some bad words, and then _Okaa-san_ called _him_ some bad words. They didn’t even hear me leave.”

Itachi almost laughed aloud at the absurdity. His innocent little brother was concerned about something as trivial as his parents shouting at each other when the world was falling apart. To be a second son was indeed a blessing in disguise. “Just ignore them, Sasuke. It doesn’t concern you.”

Sasuke scooted closer, clinging to the branch beneath him. “Are you in trouble?”

“No, nothing like that. Everything’s alright,” he said, putting an arm around the boy to steady him.

“You’re lying to me,” he said indignantly. “You can tell me the truth, _Nii-san_. I’m not a baby anymore.”

Itachi ruffled his hair. “You’re the smart one, aren’t you? _Otou-san_ and I just had a disagreement, that’s all. It will work itself out in time. It’s nothing you have to worry about.”

The naive child accepted this and leaned against his brother’s side. Before long, he had fallen asleep. The older Uchiha waited until he was sure he wouldn’t wake him, and then he gathered the boy in his arms and _Shunshin’ed_ home. He slipped in through the window to his brother’s room and settled him in his bed, and then vanished again, on his way to the Hokage’s tower to do his duty.

When he was finally admitted to the Hokage’s office, he was surprised that they were not alone. Beside the Hokage sat a man Itachi knew only by reputation, but recognized nonetheless. Shimura Danzo. Call him a ghost, a spook, or whatever you like, this was the man who worked within the shadows of the village, gathering intelligence and synthesizing it into something ANBU could use. The man who made the calls that the Hokage’s position could not allow him to make. If he was here, it might already be too late. Itachi betrayed nothing of what he felt inside as he approached the two men. _All is not lost, not yet._ He willed himself to believe that.

He kept his tone neutral, speaking without emotion as he told them what had transpired and how his father had been unwilling to consider any attempt to integrate the clan back into Konoha. “No firm plans have been laid, but I would advise you to be ready. Keep additional Jounin and ANBU level shinobi on alert at all times, give them whatever justification you need to.” His stared at his feet as he added, “If the time comes, we will need every man.”

The Hokage stared at his folded hands, and suddenly he looked like the tired, old man that he was, if one could see beneath the ceremonial robes of his office. “Is there any chance to end this without bloodshed?”

Itachi forced himself to consider the situation objectively. Shisui would stand with him, perhaps others would too. _I can’t even fool myself. Shisui is the only only who would dare to defy Fugaku, and even both of us together will not be enough to turn this tide._ “There may be,” he said, not giving away his despair. “As I said before, I am not the only Uchiha who remains loyal to Konoha. I had hoped that more would make a stand with me tonight, but there is still hope that I can convince enough of my clansmen that this plan is madness, even if my father is beyond redemption. Give me time, Hokage-sama. That’s all I ask.”

It was Danzo who replied. “How much _time_ do you think we have, boy?”

The Hokage raised a hand to silence him. “There is time enough for us to give reason a chance. I can give you a week. Do everything you can.” He left it unspoken, but Itachi heard it. _And if it is not enough, I am trusting you to recognize that and to do your duty to Konoha._

Itachi bowed, but it was Danzo’s eyes he watched. “I can do no less, Hokage-sama.”

He was halfway to ANBU headquarters before he remembered that it was Saturday. He wasn’t scheduled to come in for another two days, a sneaky extension to his mandated recovery time. He looked back toward the Hokage tower, and then over his shoulder toward the Uchiha estate, now hidden from view by the twists and turns of the village streets. It wasn’t over yet; no attack had been launched, or even formally planned. Maybe with Shisui’s help, he could find a way to save his family. He _Shunshin’ed_ back to Shisui’s house and reached out with his chakra, but he found no trace of his cousin’s presence. He wasn’t here.

Itachi scoured the Uchiha estate for hours, but he still found no sign of Shisui. Worried now, he went back to Shisui’s empty house and did something he hadn’t done since they were children. He focused his chakra on the bedroom window’s latch and very carefully, he forced it open without breaking the glass. He had expected some sort of booby trap to be rigged against such an obvious way to break into a home, but nothing happened, even when he hoisted himself up and through the small opening into his cousin’s room. He looked around quickly for any sign of where Shisui might be and his eyes fell and a piece of paper on the elaborately carved bedside table.

He unfolded it and saw that it was a page torn from a book, an old one, from the look of it. Itachi suppressed the urge to hunt his cousin down and punch him for damaging the clan records, and instead sank down onto Shisui’s bed as he skimmed the page. _Kotoamatsukami, the ultimate genjutsu_. Shisui was going to try it. He knew his cousin possessed the power of the Mangekyo Sharingan, though he never spoke of how he had obtained it, but this... Was he capable of this? _Would it be enough?_ In theory, not even Fugaku could resist it.

Itachi had learned of the _Kotoamatsukami_ when he was still a Chunin. It was a genjutsu that forced the victim to obey the caster, but not in the traditional sense of shattering their will, as most mind-controlling jutsus did. No, this was far more intricate. It made the victim believe that he _wanted_ to obey the command he was given, as if it were his own choice from the beginning. He would be entirely unaware that he was being controlled. Itachi had never heard of this technique being used successfully, but then, Shisui was the only Uchiha he had met who possessed a fully developed Mangekyo Sharingan. _He could do it_ , Itachi realized. _I was the one they called the prodigy, but it is Shisui who is the true genius, Shisui who will save us._

He jammed the paper into his pocket and ran; he knew now where Shisui would be. As he reached the river, he sensed his cousin’s chakra. He _Shunshin’ed_ the last few meters.

“Shisui-nii-san, you’re brilliant! Why didn’t you tell—” He broke off when he saw his cousin’s face.

Shisui looked up at him, his Mangekyo blazing in his left eye. His right, though...

“Ashes and death, Shisui.” Itachi dropped to his knees beside him. “How...”

“You came. Took you...long enough...prat of a cousin,” Shisui mumbled.

“What happened, Shisui?” Itachi demanded.

“Oh, this? Guess I’m...not so brilliant after all.” Shisui gestured at the bloody hole where his right eye should have been. “I tried it, ‘Tachi. The forbidden genjutsu, _Kotoamatsukami_. It almost worked.”

Itachi caught him as he fell back, cradling him against his chest. He reached out with his chakra and sensed the severe internal damage to his cousin’s body. Attempting _Kotoamatsukami_ had destroyed his chakra system and damaged most of his internal organs. How he had found the strength to hold on this long, Itachi couldn’t imagine, but he wouldn’t last much longer. Even if he could get him to a hospital in time, he doubted there was anything they could do for him now.

“Shisui-nii-san,” he whispered. “I—”

“Shut up and listen,” he said, shaking his head. “It would have worked, but I was too slow. He took my eye. He’s taken it. You can’t let him take the rest of it. Promise me, ‘Tachi. Promise me he won’t...get the full...Mangekyo...”

“I swear, Shisui. I won’t let him have it,” he said soothingly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Good.” The older Uchiha smiled up at him and raised a trembling hand. His fingertips started to glow pale blue with chakra, but it fizzled almost instantly. “Dammit...”

“Just rest, Shisui. It’s alright,” Itachi murmured, gently pushing his hand back down.

“No, I have to...” Shisui hissed in pain as he tried to gather chakra in his hand again.

“Shisui, stop,” Itachi said quietly. “Tell me what you need. I’ll take care of you.”

“My eye... Take it, ‘Tachi.” He sucked in another breath. “Take it.”

“No. I can’t.” A single tear fell and shattered on his cousin’s flak jacket. “I don’t need it.”

Shisui gathered his chakra in his hand again, and this time, it didn’t fade away. By all rights, it should have. Itachi could feel just how broken his cousin’s body was, and yet... _This is the strength of the Uchiha_. In one motion, Shisui pulled his hand free of Itachi’s grip and sent the spikes of chakra into his eye. Seconds later, his burst of strength failed again, but it was enough.

Shisui held out his eye and stared blindly up at him. “If you don’t, he will. You’re the only one who won’t...misuse it. Bring peace to Konoha, ‘Tachi. Do that for me.”

Itachi shook his head numbly. _Peace..._ _There is no peace._

“I know it’s a...tall order...even for the Uchiha prodigy, but...” He broke off, coughing.

“Alright, Shisui. It’s alright, give it here,” he said, and he took the eye in his hand. He didn’t have the will or the medical knowledge to perform the transplant on himself, but he saw a way that he could preserve his cousin’s legacy. He drew a few characters in the blood that stained his hands and performed a summoning jutsu. He wasn’t able to focus clearly, and hadn’t formed the name of the creature he wanted, but when the smoke dissipated, a crow sat on his arm. Itachi found it oddly fitting that his subconscious mind had chosen the symbol of death and darkness. The bird looked at him with it’s small, dark eyes, and seemed to bow its head, as if it understood what Itachi was going to do and accepted it. He cast a genjutsu to put the creature to sleep and fused the eye into the crow. When he had done this, he plucked a single feather from its wing and fused it into his hand. As he watched it fade into his skin, he bound the crow’s will to his own with his chakra. _Come at my call, little one,_ he commanded it as he freed it from the genjutsu and sent it away.

“It’s done, Shisui,” he said, not sure if the older Uchiha could still hear him.

“One last thing. Let go,” Shisui whispered faintly.

“You’ve ordered me around enough for one day,” he said, afraid he knew what Shisui was going to do.

“Well tough shit, _chibi_ ,” Shisui said, and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Let me go, ‘Tachi.”

“I’m going to save you,” he said, his voice thick from the tears that he held back.

Even without his eyes, it was like Shisui was looking right through him. “You’re my best friend, and the only one I can count on... Protect Konoha...and the Uchiha name. That’s enough for me.”

“Shisui...”

“Let go,” he whispered, and flung himself from Itachi’s arms into the river.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Itachi watched his cousin’s limp body float away until it was out of sight. _I have to get out of here,_ his mind tried to tell him, but for a long time, he couldn’t bring himself to move. Shisui was dead. How could Shisui be dead? His mind tried to deny it, but he knew. _He died fighting my fight._ He put a hand on a tree to steady himself, and only then noticed a piece of paper covered in Shisui’s careful, precise handwriting had been stuck to it by a _shuriken_.

 _I can no longer be a part of what our clan has become,_ it read. _What I once called my duty is meaningless to me. There is no future for the Uchiha. This is all I can do. Forgive me, if you can._

Itachi wanted to tear it down, to destroy the filthy lie that would forever dishonor his cousin’s name. Shisui had fought to the end, and he would be remembered as a coward who took his own life? How could he let this final insult stand? _I know the truth. Shisui would say that is enough._

“Damn you, Shisui, why?” he shouted, slamming his fist against the rough bark of the tree. “Answer me that, _baka_!”

The pain and rage he felt seemed to flow to his eyes, and a sudden burst of pain brought sharp clarity to his vision. It was as if he had been blind his entire life, and was seeing for the very first time. Not even his tears could obscure this new sight. Colors were brighter, lines sharpened, his eyes tracked movements an instant before they happened. _So this is the Mangekyo Sharingan..._

Now he knew why Shisui had kept himself alive, waiting for him to figure it out. The _Kotoamatsukami_ had not been his only plan; his cousin had known that if he failed, his death would awaken the power in Itachi, and had orchestrated the apparent suicide to hide it and buy him time to act. _This is all I can do. Forgive me, if you can._ Those words had been for Itachi alone.

“There is nothing to forgive, Shisui-nii-san,” he whispered. “It is you who will hate me for what I must do.” He closed his eyes and forced the power away. When he opened them again, the world had returned to normal. He stared at the blood on his hands and took a slow breath. He had to leave this place, now. He needed to think, to plan. He still had time to find another way.

There was no way he could go home, he knew. He couldn’t risk letting anyone see him like this, covered in Shisui’s blood; that would blow the suicide cover all to hell. Headquarters was out too, for the same reason. _So where?_ He focused his chakra and _Shunshin’ed_ into the city. Against his better judgement, he stopped outside a familiar wooden door with peeling paint set between crumbling brick walls. It opened before he could bring himself to knock. Asuka was dressed in her full ANBU uniform, aside from her mask. She had her _ninjato_ in her hand and looked ready to kill, but she relaxed instantly when she saw that it was Itachi.

“Asuka-san, I don’t—” he started to explain, but she stepped back to let him through.

“Get inside.” The urgency in her voice was enough to make him comply, and once she had bolted the door behind him, she sheathed the blade.

“I don’t want to involve you in this. I just need to clean up, get some clean clothes, and then I’ll go.”

She didn’t seem to hear him as she fumbled around in the cabinet under the sink. After a few seconds, she stalked toward him, medical kit and bottle of _sake_ in hand. “Sit.”

He held up a hand. “I’m not hurt, Asuka-san.”

“The hell you’re not. You’re bleeding from your eyes, Uchiha.” She made his family name sound like a curse word.

“I’m not—” He reached up and touched his cheeks, and his fingers came away stained with red. _So, it’s starting already, the curse of the Mangekyo. I never thought it would happen so soon._

Asuka pushed him lightly and he fell back against the kitchen counter. She handed him the bottle. “Drink a shot of this, and then hold still. Let me see what kind of damage you’ve done to yourself.”

He set it aside. “Asuka, stop. Just...just let me clean up. Please.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. She stepped back and gestured wordlessly toward her tiny bathroom. He stripped out of his clothes and turned the shower as hot as it would go; this being a shitty flat in the West Quarter, that wasn’t even particularly warm. Calmly, methodically, he cleaned the blood from his skin. His eyes burned, and he didn’t know if it was from the pain of awakening the Mangekyo, or from his own unshed tears. _Both, I suppose._ He rested his head against the cool tile. The _Kotoamatsukami_ had been his last hope. Shisui had mastered genjutsu in a way that the clan prodigy never could, and even he hadn’t been able to pull it off. With the Mangekyo eyes that he now possessed, Itachi might be able to accomplish it with time, but it was too late for that. Far too late. He let the water run over his head, even though it was quickly becoming too cool for comfort. He was shivering uncontrollably by the time he heard Asuka pounding on the door.

“You are _not_ going to drown yourself in _my_ shower, _baka_ ,” she shouted. “One more dead body in here and I lose my lease. Get your ass out here!”

Drown. He wondered if it had hurt Shisui to drown. _I’ll be proud to call you Lord Uchiha someday..._ He shook his head. There wasn’t time for this. He forced himself to turn off the spray and dry off, his body mechanically going through the motions. He saw a set of clean, neatly folded clothes sitting on the floor next to the door and hesitated, puzzled. They were his, he knew that for certain as he pulled them on. They also weren’t the set he kept at ANBU headquarters. Had Asuka really had time to go all the way to the Uchiha estate, sneak into his bedroom, and bring him a set of clothes? He knew that she was more than good enough to get past most of the clan, especially when they weren’t prepared, but he hadn’t thought that he had been here that long. Perhaps he had, though.

He opened the door and saw the sole of her shoe coming at him full force. She managed to stop it with less than an inch to spare before it would have hit him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Thought I was going to have to knock the door down there for a bit. My landlord would not have been happy. Good thing the Uchiha are loaded, ‘cause you would’ve been paying for it.”

He shook his head and stepped past her, unimpressed by her attempt to remain emotionally distant from the situation he had put her in. “ _Arigato,_ Asuka-san.”

“Hey,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you...want to talk about it?”

The sincere concern in her voice pierced his heart, but he willed an undercurrent of steel into his words as he shrugged her off. “Talk about what?”

“You don’t have to do this on your own. I know you think you do, but you’re wrong. If you need someone, I’m here.”

What could he say to that? She didn’t know about the deadly balancing act that he was slowly realizing would tear him apart long before it was over, but somehow he thought that even if she had, she would have said the same thing. _Asuka..._

He walked away. It was the only thing he could do, in the end.

 

He spent the night in the clan archives, a secret room hidden beneath the meeting house. It was clear after half an hour of study that the _Kotoamatsukami_ was beyond him, and that it might always be beyond him. As he read more and more, he wondered if even Shisui, gifted as he was, would have been able to manage it. _His eye..._

Itachi had learned of the Mangekyo Sharingan years ago after seeing his cousin use it in battle, and had been driven to understand it. Much of the information the clan had about it was myth and legend, but there were some things that were the same between all of the stories, and therefore likely had some basis in reality. The way it was awakened, through the grief caused by the loss of the person most precious to the user, was generally consistent. Some of the stories claimed that the user had to be the one to kill his loved one to awaken it, but Itachi hadn’t killed Shisui. Not technically, though his heart saw no difference.

The curse was also spoken of frequently. It was said that the use of the Mangekyo would cause irreparable damage to one’s eyes, eventually burning them out. The only way to regain the power of the Sharingan was to take the eyes of another who had also awakened the Mangekyo power and transplant them into yourself. This was not always successful, as transplanting something as intricate and delicate as a Sharingan eye was fraught with danger, but it seemed to have a higher success rate when the new eyes came from a close family member. _Like a blood transfusion,_ Itachi thought. _They have to be the right type._ As a boy, Itachi had asked Shisui about the curse, but his cousin had always assured him that he was fine. Itachi had believed him, but now he wondered. _How much could you see, at the end? How much had you lost?_

He felt the tears well up in his eyes again, but he refused to let them fall. There was no time for grief. He continued looking through the ancient texts of the clan, hoping to hit upon something that he could use, something that would let him find the power to save them. He read of _Amaterasu_ , the all-consuming flame. He shuddered as he read of _Tsukuyomi_ , the dark world of torturous illusion. And he read of _Susano’o_ , the great guardian. None of it would help him now.

After three days, he hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep until he felt a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I haven’t seen you spend so much time here since you were a Genin.”

He looked up to see his mother’s sad, concerned eyes peering down at him. “ _Okaa-san_. I...” What could he say, really? Nothing.

“I brought you dinner.” Her forced smile was almost too much to bear. “It’s just _onigiri_ , but...”

He took the box, but he couldn’t look at her. “ _Arigato_.”

“Sasuke is perfecting the _katon_. You should come help him,” she said, not quite pleading.

Itachi heard it for what it was. _Come home._ “He’s only eight. He has time.” Time. The lie seared his throat on its way out.

If she noticed it, she gave no sign. She merely squeezed his shoulder and left. Uchiha Mikoto was much like her son.

Itachi made himself eat, but the food tasted like ash in his mouth. There was nothing here that could help him, he knew that for certain now. Itachi left the books and scrolls and climbed the narrow, winding staircase back to the surface. It was getting late, and the moon was nearing full as it peeked over the village wall. Off in the distance, across the invisible border between the Uchiha estate and the rest of the village, Itachi saw a faint orange glow that would flare brightly for a moment, and then fade away. _Sasuke..._ He crept through the streets toward it, letting the scent of smoke fill his lungs. Eight years old, and his brother could already summon the flames. He couldn’t control them properly yet, that would take a more precise manipulation of his chakra than the boy could currently manage, but even so, Itachi was impressed. As he watched his brother breathe fire over the lake, he smiled.

He left before the child noticed him.

He didn’t know why his feet carried him to the riverbanks, but he sat in the grass a few feet from the area that had been cordoned off by the police to investigate Shisui’s death. He didn’t move, even when he felt a presence approaching from behind. He knew who it was.

“I’ve been looking for you, Itachi.”

“Danzo. Say what you came to say, and be gone.”

“I have known Sarutobi Hiruzen since we were children at the Academy, and I know he cannot make this choice. He would plunge the shinobi world into another war, eyes wide open and telling himself all the while that he had done the right thing.”

Itachi rose and faced the man of darkness and shadow, and saw that the right half of his face was covered in thick bandages. Including his eye. “You...”

Danzo touched the bandages lightly. “I will not deny it, Itachi. Your cousin came to me and tried to _force_ me to spare the clan, even at the cost of thousands of lives. He couldn’t see that there is no other way.”

 _My eye. He’s taken it._ Itachi had thought Shisui had been talking about Fugaku, but now he understood. _You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your power against your family, could you, Shisui? You tried to find another way. You were always the better man._ “I...understand.”

Danzo nodded solemnly. “I think you do.”

“I don’t have the strength to do what you ask,” he said, looking away. “I can’t.”

“Not alone, no. But there is another who is willing to help you.”

Itachi frowned. “Who?”

“Your precious Founder. Madara,” Danzo said, and suddenly another man appeared beside him. His dark hair and Mangekyo Sharingan eyes made it clear that he was an Uchiha.

Itachi gaped at him. Madara should be long dead, but clearly he wasn’t. This was no _Edo Tensai_ , nor was it an illusion. Madara was here. “Why would you help destroy the clan you founded?” Itachi demanded.

“I have my reasons, Itachi. Suffice it to say that I will take no great pleasure in this, but it must be done,” the man said.

All of the Uchiha knew the stories of Madara’s power; the two of them would be able to do it. He had nowhere else to run, no other excuse left. Itachi took a ragged breath. “Even the children?”

“Ah, you speak of your brother,” Danzo said, suddenly pensive, calculating. It wasn’t a hard deduction; the Uchiha were not the most fertile of lines, and Sasuke was the only child left, aside from a sickly infant girl who was not expected to reach her first birthday. “If we wait for the coup to begin, and the boy sees shinobi of the Leaf taking down his family, he will swear revenge against Konoha.” He waved a hand to forestall argument. “Don’t try to deny it, Itachi, you know the Curse of Hatred that your clan bears; their guilt or innocence will make no difference to him. But if we pre-empt their attack, if you can end the threat before it begins, all he will know is that his family is gone. If you act as a rogue, it will only bind him tighter to the Leaf. I think you can save him.”

 _I’m going to save you._ Shisui was lost to him, but not Sasuke. Not Sasuke. He latched onto that thought with all his might as he asked, “When?”

“How long do you need?”

 _A lifetime._ “Tonight.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

It shouldn’t have been so easy to take out an entire clan of famed shinobi warriors, even for the two most powerful shinobi that clan had ever produced. Itachi fought recklessly, leaving himself open to counter-attacks in a way that he never would have done against other foes, but as he tore through the Uchiha estate, no one could leave a mark on him. He wondered how many of them honestly tried. He kept the Mangekyo Sharingan activated the entire time; he could never allow himself to forget this. He couldn’t live with himself if he ever let this pain fade, even a little, and with the Mangekyo, it never would. Men and women he had known for his entire life fell to his blade, and no matter how thick the tears that fell from his eyes, they couldn’t even blur the horror that would be etched into his memory for eternity.

He didn’t hesitate until he reached the ornate, traditional house that he had once called home. He couldn’t think of it that way any longer, it would only dishonor what it had been. His father and mother sat together in the living room, unarmed and unarmored. Madara had left them for him.

Itachi froze in the doorway. _Damn it, no. Not like this._

“I...” he started, but he couldn’t speak. He could offer no justification for what he had done...would do. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask for forgiveness. There could be none for this.

“We already know, Itachi,” Mikoto said softly. “It’s alright.”

He took a shaking step into the house, and then another. How could he be capable of this? This was the warrior he had become; his body, at least, knew what it had to do. He hated himself, but that was the price he had to pay. _There is no other way..._

“I’m still proud of you, my son. My heir. All those times you fought me...you were right. I wish I could have seen it in time. The Uchiha clan is broken. Perhaps you have found the right path for us,” Fugaku said with a defeated sigh. “Promise me you’ll take care of Sasuke.”

Itachi’s hands were shaking so badly that he nearly dropped his _ninjato_. “I... I swear I will.”

And with that, it was over. He sank to his knees as his parents’ blood covered the floor. _How could I..._ Even knowing that he had prevented a fourth shinobi world war was no consolation. None at all. He stared at the blade in his hand and knew what he wanted, then. He wanted it so badly that the blade was already moving toward him, seemingly of its own will. But no, he had to play this to the end. If he wanted to protect Sasuke, he had no choice; he had to use what he had done to secure the child’s loyalty to Konoha, or Danzo wouldn’t hesitate to kill him too. Even now, he heard light, quiet footsteps on the porch and Sasuke’s high, childish voice shout for his parents.

Itachi felt his brother’s presence hesitate on the other side of the door. The boy was terrified, but he was no coward. The doors slowly opened and Itachi stared down at his little brother’s wide, frightened eyes.

“ _Nii-san_ , everyone is...” Sasuke said, but trailed off when he saw the bloodstained _ninjato_ in his brother’s hand. “ _Nii-san..._ ” The child’s eyes moved downward, to where his parents bodies had fallen. He started shaking as the truth of what had happened slowly dawned on him. “What have you done?” he whispered.

Itachi couldn’t answer, but he forced his eyes to remain cold, hard, filled with cynical hatred and derision for the world, the eyes of the many rogue shinobi that he had hunted and killed since he joined ANBU. The Sharingan’s ability to mimic anything it saw served him well.

“Answer me! Itachi!” the boy shouted.

“I had to test my abilities,” he said, stepping into the light of the window so the child could see the Mangekyo burning in his eyes.

“To test your... What the hell kind of nonsense is that!” Sasuke managed to take a step toward him. “Don’t lie to me!”

Itachi threw a _kunai_ toward him, deliberately wide of the mark so that it only scratched his shoulder. The boy didn’t even try to dodge. “Foolish little brother...” He met the boy’s eyes and cast the _Tsukuyomi._ In reality, it took less than half a second, but for the two Uchiha brothers, twelve hours passed as he showed the child what he had done, over and over, leaving no doubt in his mind that it was Itachi who had slaughtered their clan, and Itachi alone. His brother begged him to stop, screamed for him to stop, and Itachi couldn’t maintain the illusion any longer, because that was all he wanted to do as well. He let it go and watched as his little brother fell to the ground.

“Itachi, why?” he asked weakly, trying to stand.

“I told you. To see what I was capable of.” _To save you, and everyone else._

The young Uchiha launched himself forward in a fierce, but unthinking attack. Itachi couldn’t make himself strike the boy, but he held out his fist so that Sasuke’s path caused him to crash into it. The child fell again, whimpering. Itachi took a step toward him, but Sasuke scrambled to his feet and ran to the door.

“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me,” he screamed as he fled back out into the streets of the estate.

Itachi _Shunshin’ed_ past him and stopped a few feet ahead. “You’re not even worth killing. Go on, run. Run, and survive,” he goaded, his heart breaking. _You’re a child, not even a Genin yet. You_ should _run from the madman who slaughtered your family._ But if he let his brother be ruled by his fears, he would never be strong enough to rebuild the Uchiha. “Or hate me. Hold onto your hate for me, and someday, when you have the same eyes as mine, come find me.” _Push yourself. Make yourself strong. Konoha will need the Uchiha again someday, and all they will have is you. Be enough,_ otouto _._

Itachi walked away. If he looked at his brother for a moment longer, his charade would crumble. He turned back when heard the child run toward him and blinked, stunned, when he saw a _kunai_ coming toward his face. He didn’t dodge, hoping against hope that it would strike true, but it only knocked the Konoha emblem from his forehead.

He slowly bent and picked it up, marveling at the Sharingan blazing in his brother’s eyes for the first time. He had hoped to see it under other circumstances, but still, it was a welcome sight. Now he was truly Uchiha Sasuke. “Not yet, foolish little brother. You don’t have the strength to kill me yet. If you want that, go to the meeting house. Under the seventh tatami mat from the right, you will find what you seek. Who knows, perhaps you will be the third to master it.”

He _Shunshin’ed_ away from the estate, leaving Sasuke alone. There was one more thing he had to do.

 

He found the Hokage on the rooftop courtyard of the tower and threw his bloody _ninjato_ at the older man’s feet. The Hokage took one look at it and great sadness filled his face.

“It’s done, then?” he asked.

Itachi could only nod. He had never seen the Hokage show fear before, and it hurt to be the cause of it. _Fear and hatred... That is all I will inspire in others now._

For the second time in his life, Itachi watched as the Hokage did something he never expected. The older man closed the distance between them and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my dear boy. It should never have come to this.”

Itachi stepped back and dropped to one knee. “Hokage-sama. I couldn’t... My...” No, he had no right to call himself Sasuke’s brother now. “Sasuke is alive.”

The Hokage waited, silent.

“Hokage-sama, I have no right to ask you for anything, especially now, but please... Protect him. Danzo’s only loyalty is to Konoha, and I know his word is meaningless, but yours is not. Look after Sasuke, keep him safe, and never tell him the truth of what I have done. The name Uchiha and the concept of revenge are so intertwined throughout history. If Sasuke ever learns that Konoha supported my actions, the guilt or innocence of our family will not sway him. He will destroy you.”

The Hokage paused, considering Itachi’s words. “Only you, Danzo, and myself know the truth behind what happened this night. I will make sure it stays that way.”

That wasn’t good enough. Itachi looked up, his Mangekyo eyes burning to underscore the threat. “Sasuke is a child; he’s no threat to you now, but _I_ am. If any harm comes to him, I swear to you that everything I know, everything I have ever done for this godforsaken village, it all goes to the highest bidder. Konoha will be reduced to nothing but rubble and rotting bodies when I’m through with you.” The words tore at his soul. Even if Danzo and the Hokage did decide that Sasuke was too great of a threat to be allowed to live, Itachi knew that he would die to protect his brother, but he could never raise a hand against the villagers. But after what he had done tonight, who would believe that?

A look of great pain crossed the Hokage’s face, but he nodded. “I want you to know, if this had never happened... I had planned on recommending you as my successor, in a few years. I don’t know if the council would have approved, but... I will look after your brother for you, and defend him with my life if I have to. Not even Danzo will defy me in this.”

Itachi blinked. Becoming Hokage was the dream of nearly every young shinobi, but Itachi had never seriously considered himself worthy of the position. With the tension between his clan and the rest of the village, he had never imagined that any Uchiha would be considered for it, and even now, the comment barely registered. Sasuke was safe.

Sasuke was safe.

Itachi rose and looked toward the horizon. From up here, he could see the sun just starting to lighten the predawn sky.

“Where will you go, Itachi?”

“I am a _nukenin_ now. It hardly matters.” And it didn’t. There was nothing left for him now. Perhaps he could die now. Yes, perhaps he could...

The Hokage reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll. A mission assignment scroll. “I do not have the authority to command one of the _nukenin_ , but the man I see before me is a shinobi of Konoha.”

He met the older man’s eyes and deactivated the Mangekyo. “You are mistaken.”

“I’m not.”

They stood like that for a while, neither surrendering to the other, until finally, Itachi reached out with a shaking hand and took the scroll. He could do nothing else. The sharp edge of the paper sliced his thumb as he opened it, but he paid it no mind. “Akatsuki.”

“They grow bolder and more troublesome each day. I know they will recruit you, after tonight. You will have access to information that no one else could learn. Accept their offer, Itachi.”

So he was to be a spy again, just as he had been for the clan when he had joined ANBU. Except this time, there was no conflict of emotions and ideals. He knew exactly where his loyalty belonged. “Very well.”

His path toward the village gates took him through the West Quarter, but there were no lights on in Asuka’s flat and he didn’t sense her chakra anywhere nearby. He was grateful. He was less grateful when he saw the bastard girl leaning against the village wall, a travelling pack sitting on the ground beside her.

“No, Asuka-san.”

She smirked. “You think you’re so special. I’m not here for you, Itachi-kun. I just happen to be going the same way, is all.”

“You can’t be here. Go.” His voice was harsher than he meant it to be, but he made no effort to moderate it.

“I don’t take orders from a _nukenin_ ,” she said simply, without a trace of accusation in her voice, and she fell into step beside him.

“If anyone sees you with me, they’ll think you were involved.”

She shrugged. “They can think what they want. Ain’t like I’m planning on running for public office.”

“Leave.”

She stopped and met his eyes, and Konoha’s feral cat didn’t flinch at the Mangekyo glare he turned on her. “Are you really going to use that thing on me?”

There was no fear in those emerald eyes. Asuka knew what he was, what he had done, and surely she had at least heard the rumors of what the Mangekyo Sharingan was capable of, and yet, here she was. _She knows_ , he realized. _Even if she doesn’t know why, she genuinely believes that I wouldn’t have done it without a reason. She doesn’t see me as a killer._

He deactivated the Sharingan and looked at her with his own dark eyes. “No.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “I didn’t think so.”

“Why?”

She understood the question. _Why do you trust me?_ “I’ve been running missions with you for seven months, and I’ve seen you around since you were a Genin. You’re more famous than you like to admit. In all that time, I’ve never seen nor heard of you taking a life if you could find a way avoid it. Hell, I’ve never seen you _fight_ if you could avoid it. You’re lethal when you can’t, though, or I would’ve thought you were a coward.” She touched his arm, where the ANBU tattoo lay hidden beneath his shirt. “You didn’t know it, but I was there the night we branded you. I’d lost a few hands of poker the night before, so I was the one who was going to have to tell your father when his precious first-born prodigy didn’t survive the initiation. But you did. I kept an eye on you after that. I was curious how someone like you would survive in that den of madmen who have embraced their role as the dark underbelly of Konoha...shinobi one step from being declared _nukenin_ and executed. Even after three years, you never became like us. You are what we should have been.”

He shook his head. Though Itachi would never have admitted it to anyone, he had had the same thoughts after just a month in the ANBU Black Ops. While it was a stepping stone to power for many of the village’s more ambitious shinobi because of the nature of the missions it assigned, few remained with the organization for more than a year or two. But ANBU had a darker side. Shinobi who thrived on violence and intrigue were often drawn to the organization and spent the majority of their careers within its ranks. They were broken men, violent and dangerous, and ANBU was an effective way to utilize their skills while minimizing the risk to the rest of the village. He had feared his comrades, for a time, but he had soon learned that not all ANBU shinobi had lost themselves. Hatake Kakashi, his mentor for his first year, hadn’t. Asuka hadn’t. For a long time, Itachi had thought that he wouldn’t either.

“Even now, you won’t abandon Konoha,” she said. “I don’t know where you’ll go, or what you’ll do, but I know that much.”

“Why are you here, Asuka?” he whispered.

“No reason,” she said, but her tone didn’t match the casual words. She seemed to hear it too, because she grimaced. “Because there are secrets that I wish I never knew, and even though there are so many things I can’t say to you right now, I couldn’t let you leave like this.”

He looked back toward the village, but Asuka put a hand on his cheek and gently turned him back to her. She was so close to him, he could see the tears threatening to form in her eyes. She leaned forward, slowly, carefully, as if she was afraid she might hurt him, but before their lips touched, he pulled away.

“In another life, perhaps.” As he said it, he realized how much we wanted it to be true. Asuka was everything he could ever want in a friend, a lover. She was his equal in combat and she was inherently incapable of conforming to the subservient role often expected of shinobi wives. She treated him like a partner, with none of the half-fearful respect Itachi had grown accustomed to over the years. She had seen him kill during their missions for ANBU, and not always cleanly; she had been there the first time he had tortured a Sunagakure shinobi with his Sharingan-enhanced genjutsu, and she knew the horrors that he had left at the Uchiha estate not even an hour ago. Somehow, Asuka could embrace the worst parts of him and never bat an eye. Yes, he thought love could grow from that.

And yet, even if this had never happened, he would still have been destined to become the head of the Uchiha clan, and his wife would be chosen by the Elders based on her status within the clan and the likelihood of them having strong children together. That woman would cook for him, clean his home, mend his clothes, fight with his mother, and raise his children until they were admitted to the Academy. And he would never love her.

She nodded, as if she had the same thoughts. “No, not even then. We can only be what we are. I could never be the Lady Uchiha, and you and your damned honor wouldn’t have it any other way. Take care of yourself out there, alright, Itachi-kun? And if you ever come home, just know that ANBU always needs a few more broken shinobi.”

Not trusting himself to reply, Itachi Shunshin’ed away from her, away from his home, away from everything. Asuka was right, we can only be what we are. No matter what else he became, he was still Konoha’s Uchiha Itachi. And he was entirely, irreparably broken.


End file.
